Pulse

Cursive

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    I'll never go back there don't make me go back there

    Now that god is an athiest
    Finally, well i can sleep at night

    In a hotel room
    With holes in the curtains
    I shivered as she slid up my leg
    She could convince me
    A hundred hail mary's
    She whispered "dear boy, your god is me"

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    I'll never go back there
    Don't make me go back there

    I--don't--sleep--in this dead cold bed

    In a hotel room
    The color of her skin
    Holes in the drapes
    Spray beams of light
    Strangling lovers,
    Were we kidding each other
    Gasping for breath,
    In poisonous lies

    In a hotel room
    (it was my second communion)
    Is that your blood cleansing my veins
    If three little angels
    (would peak in these curtains)
    They'd whisper "dear boy, your mouth was too warm"
    Was too warm
    Was too warm

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