From now on
I make haste
To carry my skin
Into the arm
Must of ? ? ? ? ?
Never less
Never less
Cuaght might grow in to a mind that eats
Like a big taste lie
I?ve laid low
From now on
This is a joke
When he sees the skin rought on me
Play low
From now on
This is a joke
Can I see the skin rot
On a dog stray?s hide