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The Child

Iím the child, your my dolls Pretty dressed in messy stalls Donít follow me Iím all fucked up Iím not smiling my lips are curled Running here to drink my word Your Sacred Queen becomes unfurled Tears streaming from my infliction Whatís wrong with you Iím no addiction I see how far youíve come undone so vein under my influence Watching you is prime-time fun Not so easy, look you blew it Screaming how your so like me angry you feel empty wondering who you are Livid in changes made easy Wondering never got far Iíll ease your pain, itís so free Follow here itís blind obsession Further in the wrong direction I Didnít mean to complicate things Lust overcame and I wanted Gently tugging well placed strings I become the child when taunted

Created on ... July 21, 2004