I was staring through the stained glass, into the procession of a Black Mass / Oh how the subject at the altar wants their life back / The view from here to there is a lot like wilting flowers / Bored beyond repair and unfit for an altar / Strange relating with the Lamb to the Slaughter. / But hey, do you really wanna throw it away? / I’d do anything to make you stay. / We used to only take the back roads, but now we found a distance shorter / You used to call me darlin, now you prefer more formal / We used to get high and stare at the moon / And wonder how long it would take to walk to / But now that's like the distance between me and you. / But hey, do you really wanna throw it away? / I’d do anything to make you stay, for just a little bit longer.
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