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Lips Shut Songtext
von Nina Chuba

Lips Shut Songtext

I killed kindness with my own violence
I′m thinking twice now, I'm on the brink of niceness
With myself in hindsight, I should love the highlights
I should treat myself right

I should not be scared of night-time thoughts
That I′m not enough for my own life
I'm dancing on my own knife
Pirouetting like I'm paradise bound on a cursed flight
With no seatbelt, on the edge of my seat
Just praying that the heat won′t keep my knees weak
Like an unwanted keepsake

And I′m thinking I'll just leave this shit straight
Head home and just be fake
On my own where nobody can see the real me
The real me I hate, not hate, just don′t relate
To my own view of self, sombody send help


I hear a million carbon copies of myself
And every single one of them is shouting, "You should go to hell"
The more they talk the more I think I might as well
And maybe, maybe I should sew their lips shut

They want me praying at the altar of my doubt
They shout, "Judas in the flesh has come around"
So it's supper for suckers before I′m out
I should sew their lips shut

Maybe I should face it, I'm not feeling amazing
I′m blocking my own wave, could you step out of the way?
Other me should sit down, girl just quit
I'm following my head, I'll leave my ego in the ditch

Yeah, Freud would be proud if, if he could hear me now
I told my therapist this, she said there′s too many to talk
And too many mini me′s tryna tell me who I should be
And maybe, maybe, I should sew their lips shut

I hear a million carbon copies of myself
And every single one of them is shouting, "You should go to hell"
The more they talk the more I think I might as well
And maybe, maybe I should sew their lips shut


They want me praying at the altar of my doubt
They shout, "Judas in the flesh has come around"
So it's supper for suckers before I′m out
I should sew their lips shut

(They want me praying at the altar of my doubt, doubt)
(Judas in the flesh has come around, 'round)
(I should sew their lips shut)

I hear million carbon copies of myself
And every single one of them is shouting, "You should go to hell"
The more they talk the more I think I might as well
And maybe, maybe, I should sew their lips shut

They want me praying at the altar of my doubt
They shout, "Judas in the flesh has come around"
So it′s supper for suckers before I'm out
I should sew their lips shut

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