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Komponistar
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Sangtekst: Pridebowl. Drippings Of The Past. Nine Digits.


my thoughts of you are receding
like the untold stories
i've never heard before
like the big brother i never had
you watch me like a hawk, my every move
you have my name but it's not enough for you
so i'm given a number like everyone else
you've got the lock-jaw system
and it's true, that i'll never escape from you
nine digits is all i have
and it's not enough to keep me away from you
my thoughts of you are receding
like the hair that grows on molded cheese
if you think it's "nine-digit"
will screw up your scene
then you've got more problems than you think
do all you can to shut me up, to put me down
black out all the naughty things it's true
but you'll never, yeah it's true,
censorship me