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PigsAsPeople
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Those Hearts Have Rocks
A man without a catchers mit or decent social ediquite A lovers tiff would drive him down His eyes reeks of foul play He burns himself into the ground
A knife into his bloated skin To make sure he knows That we care Crying is an art to him And art is a form of harm Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com We pray for you
This man is a forgotten soul We made sure that he left it behind And looked ahead to what is now I was this man one day But now I breath with different lungs They are lost
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