Lyrics Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky - Manic Street Preachers
                                                You 
                                                have 
                                                your 
                                                very 
                                                own 
                                                number
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                dress 
                                                your 
                                                cage 
                                                in 
                                                it′s 
                                                nature
 
                                    
                                
                                                Once 
                                                you 
                                                roared 
                                                now 
                                                you 
                                                just 
                                                grunt 
                                                lame
 
                                    
                                
                                                Pace 
                                                around 
                                                pathetic 
                                                pound 
                                                games
 
                                    
                                
                                                Wanna 
                                                get 
                                                out 
                                                won't 
                                                miss 
                                                you 
                                                sensaround
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                carry 
                                                your 
                                                own 
                                                dead 
                                                to 
                                                swing 
                                                your 
                                                tyre 
                                                tricks
 
                                    
                                
                                                Wanna 
                                                get 
                                                out 
                                                in 
                                                here 
                                                you′re 
                                                bred 
                                                dead 
                                                quick
 
                                    
                                
                                                For 
                                                the 
                                                outside
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                small 
                                                black 
                                                flowers 
                                                that 
                                                grow 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                drag 
                                                sticks 
                                                along 
                                                your 
                                                walls
 
                                    
                                
                                                Harvest 
                                                your 
                                                ovaries 
                                                dead 
                                                mother 
                                                crawl
 
                                    
                                
                                                Here 
                                                comes 
                                                warden, 
                                                christ, 
                                                temple, 
                                                elders
 
                                    
                                
                                                Environment 
                                                not 
                                                yours 
                                                you 
                                                see 
                                                trough 
                                                it 
                                                all
 
                                    
                                
                                                Wanna 
                                                get 
                                                out 
                                                won't 
                                                miss 
                                                you 
                                                sensaround
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                carry 
                                                your 
                                                own 
                                                dead 
                                                to 
                                                swing 
                                                your 
                                                tyre 
                                                tricks
 
                                    
                                
                                                Wanna 
                                                get 
                                                out 
                                                in 
                                                here 
                                                you're 
                                                bred 
                                                dead 
                                                quick
 
                                    
                                
                                                For 
                                                the 
                                                outside
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                small 
                                                black 
                                                flowers 
                                                that 
                                                grow 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Here 
                                                chewing 
                                                your 
                                                tail 
                                                is 
                                                joy
 
                                    
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