Gossips, they turn to dirty
lines and gets overwhelmed response,
back stabber lay in skin
from these bars,
walls come staggerin down
how do i feel, like its all been seen and said before
it just happens, to be once around and disappears
too much made up stories, proves to be a big pile of mess
paper flies and empty voices, under the clouds of fault
until my heart, is not for sale
jet lag skies, its colours are fading
they want exchange, to their saints to be ungodly disgraceful

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