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Shangri-LIE
01-07-2015, 01:01 PM
You've got your doubles and your visions. So blurred and pushing towards an ambush. You've got your wits and your spit and you're current is ripping like a broken tide. Record. Record. Paint your names on the driftwood. Record. Record. Paint your names on the driftwood.

Washed up on the beach. There aint no rescue team. Washed up on the beach there aint no time to scream. Hiding in the trees are snipers in the breeze. In the limelight sun you rot faster, not run. In the quicksand you're stuck, shored with broken casters.

We've got your numbers and your lines. Tied up and confused on the other side. Cocky and ardent, but clever and superior you aren't. Damned and swirled like pin up hair in drain. On the walls like flies and their inside stains. Record. Record. Paint your names on the driftwood. Record. Record. Paint your names on the driftwood.

Read and played like a book.

Washed up on the beach. There aint no rescue team. Washed up on the beach there aint no time to scream. Hiding in the trees are snipers in the breeze. In the limelight sun you rot faster, not run. In the quicksand you're stuck, shored with broken casters.

Read and played like a book.