Press my thumb onto your tongue
hand a knife up to me
no mouth no neck no rest
THE WHITE POEM OF SELF-HATE STAYS WITH YOU...
even though you know a chance to cut
is still a chance to cure
pull your legs apart
save me save me
your body doomed as the last apple on the tree
so let me hurt you
even though you know a chance to cut
is still a chance to cure
pull your legs apart
save me save me
your body doomed as the last apple on the tree
so let me hurt you
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