A Suburb to Hell

Death is near, need the drugs
Poisoned blood transfuse death
Toxemia, transfix the veins

Overdose by a shot
Makes you dead, a funeral
When no one cries, you're alone

Land of the dead has taken your soul
Eradicates your moribund fate

Exonerate your head
Start to live a life
Erroneous erudition
Is left behind

Purgatorial blood in the chest
The epitaph describes a natural death
The trepidation stopped long ago
Got a real job, forgot the past

Drugs change a life to an inner devastation
Make you high, but also make you dead

Death is near
Need the drugs
Poisoned blood
Transfuse death
Toxemia
Transfix the veins

Overdose by a shot
Makes you dead
A funeral when no one cries, you're alone

Land of the dead
Has taken your soul
Eradicates your moribund fate



Credits
Writer(s): Christofer Johnsson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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