paroles de chanson
Come
on,
let
it
go
Figure
your
own
In
your
black
book
full
of
things
Like
the
stain
on
the
sheets
Where
you
lie
and
breathe
in
To
be
in
like
your
laundry
You
try
to
hide
Let
it
go
Figure
your
own
In
your
black
book,
you
can
Ride
the
wicked
Come
on,
replicate
me
Think
of
it
as
your
Think
of
it
as
your
Highest
form
of
flattery
Imitate,
imitate
me
Imitate,
imitate
me,
oh
Come
on,
let
it
go
Figure
your
own
In
your
black
book
full
of
stains
They
blew
a
nail
(A
nail)
Off
this
pretty
painting
(Painting)
Your
holy
figure
(Figure)
With
cross
eyes
(Cross
eyes)
A
star
painted
Jesus
(Jesus)
With
a
woman's
face
(A
face)
Such
a
perfect
self-portrait
An
expression
of
self-hate
Ride
the
wicked
Come
on,
replicate
me
Think
of
it
as
your
Think
of
it
as
your
Highest
form
of
flattery
Imitate,
imitate
me
Imitate,
imitate
me
Imitate,
imitate
me
Imitate,
imitate
me
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