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Her Lips Taste Like a Loaded Gun

i'm already dead

18 August
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Momma loves her baby,
And Daddy loves you, too.
And the sea may look warm to ya, Babe,
And the sky may look blue.

Oooooo Babe.
Oooooooo Baby Blue.
Oooooo Ooohh Babe.

If you should go skating,
On the thin ice of modern life,
Dragging behind you the silent reproach,
Of a million tear-stained eyes,
Don't be surprised when a crack in the ice,
Appears under your feet.
You slip out of your depth and out of your mind,
With your fear flowing out from behind,
You as you claw the ice.

I offer myself as an unworthy tribute to Pink Floyd