Текст песни The Bacchanal Affair - It Dies Today
Tonight,
we're
drunk
upon
our
nostalgia
So
raise
a
glass
to
the
black
maria
Through
laughter
seems
to
soothe
the
pain
Of
adoring
what
I
violate
I'm
sick
to
death
by
the
irony
and
all
the
lies
that
we
create
When
we're
feigning
every
red
letter
day
The
chemicals
aid
in
our
neglect,
feigning
all
of
adoration
Destined
it
seems
for
this
disease,
becoming
all
I
loathed
Feigning
all
our
adoration
Dissembling
passion,
our
foreplay
to
debauchery
A
perfume
of
zinfandel
and
coffin
nails
Intoxicates,
fair
Judas
goat,
now
you've
got
your
sheep
I'm
sick
to
death
by
the
irony
and
all
the
lies
that
we
create
When
we're
feigning
every
red
letter
day
The
chemicals
aid
in
our
neglect,
feigning
all
of
adoration
Destined
it
seems
for
this
disease,
becoming
all
I
loathed
Feigning
all
our
adoration
Track
marks
and
a
trail
of
hearts
will
guide
you
home
There
is
a
bleak
horizon
everywhere
I
roam
Track
marks
and
a
trail
of
hearts
will
guide
you
home
There
is
a
bleak
horizon
everywhere
I
roam
The
chemicals
aid
in
our
neglect,
feigning
all
of
adoration
Destined
it
seems
for
this
disease,
becoming
all
I
loathed
Feigning
all
our
adoration
Track
marks
and
a
trail
of
hearts
will
guide
you
home
There
is
a
bleak
horizon
everywhere
I
roam
Track
marks
and
a
trail
of
hearts
will
guide
you
home
There
is
a
bleak
horizon
everywhere
I
roam
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