dieser post hat kein titel, ihr elenden huren.

 

And right now there's a steel knife in my windpipe.
I can't breathe, but I still fight while I can fight.
As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight.
High of a love - Drunk from the hate
It's like I'm huffing paint and I love it the more that I suffer I sufficate
And right before im about to drown he resuscitates me,
he fucking hates me.

 

 

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