Brixton

Zebrahead

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    Started off as I fall in a ball of flame
    Burning out on your sentiment
    It's all in vain
    Shot your 44. caliber
    Words with aim
    You mighta killed the heart but you left the brain
    Devastated and I hate it see your eyes are insane
    Gray and dissipate buiolding just like rust on a chain drained
    Dislocated echo in the things you say
    You might have killed the heart but you left the brain

    Your words are making me sick
    No more lies
    Enough with your rhetoric

    Whoa-oh
    What do you got to hide?
    Whoa-oh
    You're dead inside
    What a wonderful lie
    Don't you feel alive?
    Whoa-oh
    What do ya got to hide?
    Whoa-oh
    You're dead inside
    What a wonderful lie
    Don't you feel alive?

    Cut away, cut away now
    Cut it all away now

    Cut me off
    At the pass, as OI hydroplane
    Crashing down from your promises, all were fake
    Shot your 44. caliber
    Words with aim
    You mighta killed the heart
    But you left the brain
    Formulated and I'm fated to withstand the pain
    Wave of generated conscience from the edge of a blade
    Feigned and fabricated echo in the things you say
    You might have killed the heart
    But you left the brain

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    Your words are making me sick
    No more lies
    Enough with your rhetoric, whoa-oh

    What do you got to hide?
    Whoa-oh
    You're dead inside
    What a wonderful lie
    Don't you feel alive?
    Whoa-oh
    What do ya got to hide?
    Whoa-oh
    You're dead inside
    What a wonderful lie
    Don't you feel alive?

    Switch all the lights off
    Tell me what you want from me
    Take my time and my energy
    Turning you heart off
    Come about so easily
    It's not enough
    But it's plenty
    Bleed in the black out
    You said you'd be there for me
    Now you're gone and we're history
    Screaming you lungs out
    Say you want what's best for me
    Give it up
    You abandoned me

    Your words are making me sick
    No more lies
    Enough with your rhetoric, whoa-oh

    Whoa-oh
    What do you got to hide?
    Whoa-oh
    You're dead inside
    What a wonderful lie
    Don't you feel alive?
    Whoa-oh
    What do ya got to hide?
    Whoa-oh
    You're dead inside
    What a wonderful lie
    Don't you feel alive?

    Cut away, cut away now

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Zebrahead

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