Youre nothin' more than an eyesore,
A seedless rat who picks at its own scars,
I sold my soul for an island,
I payed my price my tickets at the door,
I'll cut you open.
You are my favourite drug i hope you understand,
Youre soon be broken in my hands,
If i can make you my trophy,
A perfect statue at a twisted pose,
I lay you over the tarmac,
In spite off this infectious urge to let you go
Writer(s): Brooks Paschal, Jeremy Stanton, Phil Chamberlain, Tyson Shipman, Zach Harward
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