Saturday, February 16, 2013

Baby Eyes

Baby Eyes

Year of the rat, last of the litter Somebody shot the babysitter They say my middle name is Danger The kind to keep away from strangers I say woah, I'm out of control Oh baby, when I see your pretty face? I say woah, God rest your fucking soul 'Cause baby, baby I was born to kill I pulled the trigger from the shooting stars I am the motor in your crashing car I am the cherub in the Arab spring I am the bullet in your magazine I say woah, I'm out of control Oh baby, when I see your pretty face? I say woah, God rest your fucking soul 'Cause baby, baby eyes Oh baby, baby eyes Oh baby, baby I was born to... Kill!

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