Ã…rs tid

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Jag gick upp i morse
men det har varit ett helvete till år
fyllt med lust, synd, värme och sorg

    Yeah, you’ve been dealt a bad hand. Placed against a stacked deck
    Been through all the cat scans and bad checks
    But I slashed your debt. Not your wrists
    And I couldn’t help with anything else that became cancerous
    Halfway people with a full baby to bury
    Took a flame to the papier-mache sanctuary
    When the smoke clears…try not to stare into the light

    But, also, don’t stay in the dark as if that’s what life is like
    It’s just a series of unfortunate events

    But the messages we get are more important than death
    What’s the rush?
    I’ve got a shortness of breath
    What’s the rush?
    Running from you…running from me
    It’s the rush. The crush. The lust. The love-trust
    So what’s the trouble? The busted bubble? The unjust?
    That’s just the way the cookie crumbles. It does suck
    But suck it up. We’re all looking, but nothing’s enough
    We used each other as a crutch. The clutch. The shift switches
    You couldn’t just adjust. You combusted and ripped pictures

    This is why I’m not considered a saint?
    Well, guess what?……I ain’t

Tiden av ett Ã¥r, i slaget av en sekund…

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