Come take my hand
Let us walk for a while
Your burden of pain
Replaced with a smile
For the Peddlers of Death
Come calling one more time
Bearing promises of feeling fine
So called friends running loose
Draining you whole
'Til you're of no use to me
Lettingg o of what you need most
Early wish
Early grave
Early ghost
Writer(s): Zack Wylde
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