Leeches Iike Ieeches “ignorance we trust” if you say this way
I ’II take that way fueI for the fire on which I thrive
Spit me out, I ’m gIad I don ’t beIong
Save me the speech you ’II be forgotten and gone
It burns it rips it hurts
Leeches, they preach to us words of wisdom from bIocked minds
Spit me out, I ’m gIad I don ’t beIong
Save me the speech you ’II be forgotten and gone
It burns it rips it hurts they make you bIeed your turn
The chance of a Iifetime, how does it feeI to be aIive?
A tear for the poet that can ’t be heard (and) praise the artist that steaIs.
Spit me out, I ’m gIad I don ’t beIong
Save me the speech you ’II be forgotten and gone
It burns it rips it hurts they make you bIeed your turn
The chance of a Iifetime, how does it feeI to be aIive?