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Bad Books - Текст песни Petite Mort
Petite Mort, I'm asking for an answer
 Petite Mort, I sang until you slept
 Petite Mort, you took yourself, you bastard
 Petite Mort, now sleeping's all that's left
 You took apart the sympathetic angle
 When you catered to the bitterness inside
 Resigned yourself to depths I couldn't handle
 A million daily deaths before you die
 I gathered a bouquet of roses and posies
 And straightened my tie
 When I got there, you were nowhere I could find
 Through layer after layer of subconscious
 I hunted for a reason in the woods
 I tore apart the map and started backwardsBad Books - Petite Mort - http://ru.motolyrics.com/bad-books/petite-mort-lyrics.html
 I couldn't picture living there for good
 I left you there to finish setting fires
 I left you there to propagate your lie
 I left you there cause honey, I was tired
 I left you but that doesn't make it right
 I remember your bedroom, ivy and clover
 You kept me alive
 Knives drawn, the butcher world waited outside
 Petite Mort, I'm asking for an answer
 Petite Mort, I sang until you slept
 Petite Mort, you took yourself, you bastard
 Petite Mort, now sleeping's all that's left
Knives drawn, the butcher world waited outside













