Hate Your Drug

Like four paper-dolls / all heavy with sleep, /

They hold you like a baby, / your body so weak. /

They lay you on a white bed, / almost dead at nineteen, /

Like four paper dolls / all heavy with sleep. /





And with your blonde hair / all over my dress, /

Your heart had stopped beating, / your head on my chest, /

And i told you for the last time / that i loved you best. /

And with your blonde hair / all over my dress.




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