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Paroles (par titre)

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The Collector

I pick things up
I am a collector
And things, well things
They tend to accumulate
I have this net
It drags behind me
And it picks up feelings
For me to feed upon

There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But they start to breathe
And they start to grow inside me

There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But they start to make me think
Things I don't want to know

I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke and swallow it all
Swallow it all, swallow it all, swallow it all

I am the plague
I am the swarm
All you hurt sticks on me
And I keep it warm
They make me stay
They won't let me leave
There are so God damned many of them
It gets hard to breathe
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke inside
I am a good boy and I will swallow it all
Swallow it all, swallow it all, swallow it all

Every last one, every last one
Every last one, every last one

Are you listening?

Yes I am building something bigger than the world

Something terrible with all of this

Dernière mise à jour : le 02/02/2004
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