(Rody Walker)
That sweet little redhead's got her hooks in my back
She points her finger and she shows me what I lack
Her pale skin, it burns so hot in the midnight air
She paints the streets a shade of gray around my chair so come on in
Her hot breath on my skin
Her scent on my fingers
Her taste is on my mind
It constantly lingers
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can believe her
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can leave her
Every kiss is a little sickening
I can feel Death's fingers quickening
Tightening my passageways
If you can't count the years
Start counting days
Try to remember that she hates you
And though she might elate you
She tries to kill the great that's in you now
She's hand picked the fate that awaits you now
And despite her words, it's not too late
That sweet little redhead's got her hooks in my back
She points her finger and she shows me what I lack
Her pale skin, it burns so hot in the midnight air
She paints the streets a shade of gray around my chair so come on in
Her hot breath on my skin
Her scent on my fingers
Her taste is on my mind
It constantly lingers
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can believe her
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can leave her
Every kiss is a little sickening
I can feel Death's fingers quickening
Tightening my passageways
If you can't count the years
Start counting days
Try to remember that she hates you
And though she might elate you
She tries to kill the great that's in you now
She's hand picked the fate that awaits you now
And despite her words, it's not too late
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