Sister, I'm not much a poet, but a criminal And you never had a chance Love it, or leave it, you can't understand A pretty face, but you do so carry on, and on, and on
I wouldn't front the scene if you paid me I'm just the way that the doctor made me, on, and on, and on, and on Love is the red of the rose on your coffin door What's life like, bleeding on the floor, the floor, the floor
You'll never make me leave I wear this on my sleeve Give me a reason to believe
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