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The Mars Volta Miscellaneous The Widow he's got fasting black lungs made of clothes splintered shares they're the kind that will talk through wheeezing of coughs and i hear him every night in very pore every times it makes me want to breathe without an answer free from all in shame must i hide cause ill never never sleep alone look at how they flock him to an asile of open sores he knows that the taste is such is such to die for and i hear him every night on every street the scales that do sliver deliver me from breathe with out anwers free from all in shame must i hide cause ill never never sleep alone say that say that im blood shot for sure pay that i ride on a ghost im floating in the shore floting on the shore every night in every pore the sclaes that do slither deliver me breathe with out answer free from all in shame and i hide cause ill never never sleep alone breathe with out answer free from all in shame let me die cause ill never never sleep alone |
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