The stereotypes

Leftovers

The stereotypes
I can hear you in a low undertone
you are whispering in my ear
we are safe, we are safe
but are we lost
I can't help but think we're here
and we eat and we take and we lick
every last bit from everybody's plate
but there's no leftovers
no leftovers here

I'm a liar, i'm a thief
is there more you wanna see
I wear teeth around my neck
and I come in peace, my dear

I can feel you in a slow spring motion
you are simmering inside
we are sane, we are sane,
but aren't we lost
I can't help but think to clear

I'm a liar, i'm a thief
is there more you wanna see
I wear flowers 'round my neck
and I keep good company, my dear

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