You've got it all wrong.
I would never let myself be happy.
There's that sinking feeling again.
Those words draped across my neck,
"Run away."
I can't seem to fight this fleeting feeling.
The cold is much more welcoming.
Oh baby, I'm feeling self-destructive.
{The droughts of Venice; your masquerade}
I would never let myself be happy.
There's that sinking feeling again.
Those words draped across my neck,
"Run away."
I can't seem to fight this fleeting feeling.
The cold is much more welcoming.
Oh baby, I'm feeling self-destructive.
{The droughts of Venice; your masquerade}
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