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Текст и слова песни Bjork – Play Dead - 7

Darling, stop confusing me,
With your wishful thinking.
Hopeful embraces,
Don't you understand?
Ihave to go through this,
I belong to care where no-one cares,
And no-one loves.
No light no air to live in,
A place called hate,
The City of Death.

I play dead,
It stops the hurting.
I play dead,
And the hurt stops.
Its sometimes just like sleeping,
Curling up inside my private tortures.
I nestle into pain,
Hug suffering, caress every nerve (?).

I play dead, ( )
It stops the hurting. ( repeat to fade )

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