Novelists

Inanimate

Novelists
I might be reborn or it might burn my skin
I just don't care, at least I'll finally feel something
Tickle every needles stuck in this voodoo doll
Stab it, stab it, stab it
Listen the sound that comes
From this fucking empty wreck
From this carbonized heart
I'm this disheartened man
Who knows that he might end burnt-out
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