the clock is a ring on her finger
that she checks
when shes out of time
the cigarettes a spike
in the spur of the moment
digging in her side
she cuts the paper with nails
and her pen is bleeding poetry ... [Ver letra completa]
the clock is a ring on her finger
that she checks
when shes out of time
the cigarettes a spike
in the spur of the moment
digging in her side
she cuts the paper with nails
and her pen is bleeding poetry
nervous from the sex that she got
and the wine that she spilled
on her clean white white sheets
like to see you baby
all torn up inside
girl youre dead already
so just let your ego die
girl youre dead already
so just let your ego die
die die die