| dues_the_fates_intended | ||
| dafremen |
for Public Worx A smoky room the smoking gun of a bottle of bourbon between his forefinger and thumb It's getting late he's almost done so he drinks it straight until he's twisted it down from ache to numb ache to numb Chilly room Where a sullen tune echoes off the moonlight Every breath anticipation She's so confused And would a bottle of booze warm the lonely midnight where she's waiting..slowly wasting? wasting where she's slowly wasting And every day right or wrong every day, right or wrong we pay the dues the fates intended we pay the dues the fates intended Empty room in the yard our hearts are softly playing a scar unhealed has started mending Pick and choose win or lose we pay the dues the fates intended we pay the dues the fates intended not a thing you can do about that, baby we pay the dues the fates intended |
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