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Текст (слова) песни: archers of loaf - Hate Paste
Bit my lip
And its the same thing.
Now Im reduced to a pulp.
Your undisturbed and decorated
Decorations lie.
Youre hounded by pulse
Stabbed by spit
And your brain fits
Despite your ears.
Another one has run in.
Rottin and gossiped,
Youre all used up
With a burst up shell. (? )
Whyre you gonna try it
If you know you dont like it
Howre you gonna give it up
If you aint got it.
Whyre you gonna use it
If you think that its broke.
Whyre you gonna swell the show (? )
The things that youre breaking down, down, down.
Down cold thresh flesh paste
Deliver hate paste.
Voices sick and swelling
You say you dont like it.
You say you dont like it.
But you just dont get it
You just dont get it.
Youre hounded by pulse,
Stabbed by spit
And your brain shits
To clog your ears.
A casual mark
Made by a bird.
What you lost
With your fair hands.
Whyre you gonna try it
If you know you dont like it.
Howre you gonna give it up
If you aint got it.
Whyre you gonna use it
If you think that its broke
Whyre you gonna swell the show
The things that youre breaking down, down, down
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