8 acessos
Hes sick hes pulling the skin right from his bones
and in the seperation she will unfold shell unfold in this seperation
leave the seems you were nothing but tearing fabric sewn together by dark romantics
unwiding her threads string by string the fakest skin
she was born by mechanical building made of fabric strings and elastic
she was diseased piece after piece and the struggeling was killing me
he spun her around and around
beating her down, down, down
shes was false
she wasnt nothing at all
that stare
and i havnt seen you
Machines built her
Is there space between us and the love machine
I saw the threads in her eyes
he spent his time on your hands designing and sewing your mind
he spent his time on your hands on your hands