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Pope
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Parties
Blame it on the weather; I'm not that clever This party isn't much fun Every ones sarcastic wrap them in plastic You don't need any one Any one
The conversation lingers on the tip of a finger The mechanisms broke His poetry will eat you then digest you There really isn't much hope Isn't much hope
Well I can see you in my sleep Your cold skin against my cheek makes me weak
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Put it in ignition making bad decisions She begins to smoke Lights start flashing she's over reacting This has got to be a joke Be a joke
Well I can see you in my sleep Your cold skin agents my cheek makes me weak
'You're making a scene'
Every one is clever in this arctic weather This party isn't much fun
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