Go down on me for the highest highs
You tell my favourite kind of lies
They say time flies
Yet it stands still in your black eyes
You've perfected the art
It's almost witchcraft
I almost believe you
When you say I have your heart
I'm falling fast, I don't want to wait
Why refuse the offer of a clean slate
But don't mistake my hunger for faith
I'll have your heart, when you cut it out
And bring it to me on a silver plate
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