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Pain of Existence Lyrics
Hidden people seem to see
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
There I find myself in sorrow
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
Dirty waste of nameless people
A dark blue line of licking nipples
Hard to get from the unknown
Eyes work hard with tears that drown
Take control when I will peer
See the pain of northern fear
Hard to get from the unknown
Eyes work hard with tears that drown
Take control when I will peer
See the pain of northern fear
Hidden people seem to see
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
There I find myself in sorrow
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
Hidden people seem to see
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
Hidden people seem to see
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
There I find myself in sorrow
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
Dirty waste of nameless people
Hidden people seem to see
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
There I find myself in sorrow
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
Dirty waste of nameless people
A dark blue line of licking nipples
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
Dirty waste of nameless people
A dark blue line of licking nipples
Eyes work hard with tears that drown
Take control when I will peer
See the pain of northern fear
Eyes work hard with tears that drown
Take control when I will peer
See the pain of northern fear
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
Dirty waste of nameless people
The way I cook the brain of thee
Sepia print of hunting dogs
Pointing out the unseen clocks
Nothing's left for my tomorrow
Dirty waste of nameless people
A dark blue line of licking nipples
Song Info
Submitted by
songmeanings On Feb 06, 2012
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Successive Substitution
Psychoanalysis
Quintessentially Unnecessary Institution
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