| Björk |
| Play Dead |
Darling stop confusing me With your wishful thinking Hopeful embraces Don't you understand? I have to go through this I belong to here where No-one cares and no-one loves No light no air to live in A place called hate The city of fear I play dead It stops the hurting I play dead And the hurting stops It's sometimes just like sleeping Curling up inside my private tortures I nestle into pain Hug suffering Caress every ache I play dead, It stops the hurting |
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