Cool-aid & cigarettes
Never ending conversations
Old plaid couch, one window
Our not so secret hide away
Is it day,is it night?
Does it matter?
Tree's murderer to ramble a hundred page's
Little sence made of these page's later
Months spent in babble town
The circus took me right in...
Deaf to my ingenious leader's
Thrown away with ease, my innocence
Not even they'd be heard over the ringing in my ears
Break-up our act, our band, our secrets
What kind of circus is leftover?
Not a sideshow at all, no gimmicks
Scatter us to hurricane winds
Spread us all over hell, heaven & back
I guess...
We'll Always Have The Circus

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