Sullivan statuette

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youre nothin' more than an eyesore,
a seedless rat who picks at its own scars,
i sold my soul for an island,
i payed my price my tickets at the door,
i'll cut you open.
you are my favourite drug i hope you understand,
youre soon be broken in my hands,
if i can make you my trophy,
a perfect statue at a twisted pose,
i lay you over the tarmac,
in spite off this infectious urge to let you go

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