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Vices lyrics

by Dead Poetic

Feeling cold, feeling empty. Set the stage, where you want me.
And this crowd right before me doesnít care that Iím dying.
And the audience stands with their eyes fixed on the preconceived version of me.
Iím so betrayed by your hopes, but I will not hide myself for your peace of mind.

Oh, but Child. Iíve got Vices like any other man.

Raise a boy to a cynic. Take his love, and then let it turn into something passionate.
Something sick, something rabid.
And I vent to keep myself from caving. I donít hate you, I just hate where Iím heading.
Iím left here asking, when did I trade in my bleeding heart for a selfish win?

Oh, but Mother. Iíve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that youíre not used to. Vices thatíll make you think less of me.

Leave me numb. Leave me jaded. Sheís a dream, I just play dead.
Iíve been blessed, Iíve been hated. Sheís the constant, and Iím her addict.
Sheís the only peace in this world, uneasy.
While I bite my tongue to keep from breaking the heart that Iíve spent my whole life seeking.
The only heart Iíve ever needed.

Oh, but Lover. Iíve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that youíre not used to. Vices thatíll make you think...
Oh, but Lover. Iíve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that youíre not used to. Vices thatíll make you think less of me. Less of me.

Feeling cold, feeling empty. I am low, unworthy.
Bleed the God. Bleed the blessing. Like a vulture feasting.
Iíll exist as if I donít feel conviction of my ignorance to my perfect prison.
But I feel the stabs on my wrists and ankles every time I try...

To forget you. To forget you.

Oh, but Jesus. Iíve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that youíre so used to. Vices that wonít make you think less of me

© 2006 Tooth & Nail Records


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