Right shine, pale eyes
My shoone, thru her size
Shy stones, square end foals
Sold faith
To fake it down on the muse

To show the call in her eyes
She says it's alright, sold in dye
Although it sounds alright, it's still fake

So hanged noose, suicide
Pole eyes, to shoot the plate off of the trash
And hold her down in the grain, why say it's alright
Sold in dye, to shoot the plate off of the trash

She sounds drunk, she sells death
Pink tools, don't fight this part
So pull tight, to feel the shame
Full tribes, and breaks it down on the floor

It's cold and breaking in size, why it's alright
Sold in by, although it feels alright it's still fake

Right time, thru lies
My fume
She paints a fake smile caught in a frame
It's alright, sold in dye
So shoot the plate off of the trash
Fakes it down to the bind, yeah