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The
Death of Me |
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Well, your
middle name is trouble
And that’s what you got me in
Anytime you place or show
I know I’ll never win
You roll with loaded dice
Always hitting sevens
While I’m staring down the
snake’s eyes
And wishing for eleven
Sweet lil’ devil, from all I can
see
You’re gonna be the death of me
A rotten apple under the tree
Mirror, mirror, what do you see
Oh, the death of me
You’ve got a date with
destruction
And you’ve made me your “plus
one.”
I’m looking for my options
And finding there are none.
Oh, I’ve got a sinking suspicion
That you’ve done this before
That I’m not the first poor soul
Who’s seen you darkening their
door
Sweet lil’ devil, from all I can
see
You’re gonna be the death of me
A rotten apple under the tree
Mirror, mirror, what do you see
Oh, the death of me
Solo
You like the finer things in
life
But the finer things aren’t free
I know you’ll be looking over
When they finally bury me
You finally sprung the trap
And caught me in your snare
But I can’t point fingers, no
I put my own self there.
Sweet lil’ devil, from all I can
see
You’re gonna be the death of me
A rotten apple under the tree
Mirror, mirror, what do you see
Oh, the death of me
Solo
Sweet lil’ devil, from all I can
see
You’re gonna be the death of me
A rotten apple under the tree
Mirror, mirror, what do you see
Oh, the death of me |
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