Sickness
Linkin Park
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I'm a whore and I'm feeling sorry for myself
In your arms I am drowning like the child I was
I need more can you help me?
Feed my sins, come and kill me
It's calling me
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Endless skies falling freely down upon my head
So much for hopeless dreaming frustration settles in
I need more can you help me?
Feed my sins, come and kill me
It's calling me