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before you know i'm swept away
watching my shadow eat off my plate
and i went to sleep a shell of a man
i woke up the same so i slept in again
before you know these days are gone
a roman candle fired at dawn
it was accidently discovered
you had cold blood running through your veins
when you cut your punch on a broken windo
and the blood froze like frost on the shattered pane
and you had a hunger growing inside you
that only bloodlust could ever fulfill
you extricated yourself to the jungle
to try to temper that instinct to kill
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mothe
take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
you were raised as a wild wolf cub
although it seems you sleep like a lamb
you don't know what to do with her love
it's like a live grenade in your hands
your father warned you about temptation
and all the wicked women that it breeds
but when you met her you knew live was over
her damnation is what your body needs
bury deep in the hot hot sand
a portrait of your mother
take those hands and kill that man
standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand
a portrait of your mother
take those hands and kill that man
standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand
a portrait of your mother
take those hands and kill that man
standing in the mirror
i was raised on wolve's milk
though it seems i sleep like a lamb
and i was raised on wolves milk
though it seems i sleep like a lamb
watching my shadow eat off my plate
and i went to sleep a shell of a man
i woke up the same so i slept in again
before you know these days are gone
a roman candle fired at dawn
it was accidently discovered
you had cold blood running through your veins
when you cut your punch on a broken windo
and the blood froze like frost on the shattered pane
and you had a hunger growing inside you
that only bloodlust could ever fulfill
you extricated yourself to the jungle
to try to temper that instinct to kill
bury deep in the hot hot sand a portrait of your mothe
take those hands and kill that man standing in the mirror
you were raised as a wild wolf cub
although it seems you sleep like a lamb
you don't know what to do with her love
it's like a live grenade in your hands
your father warned you about temptation
and all the wicked women that it breeds
but when you met her you knew live was over
her damnation is what your body needs
bury deep in the hot hot sand
a portrait of your mother
take those hands and kill that man
standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand
a portrait of your mother
take those hands and kill that man
standing in the mirror
bury deep in the hot hot sand
a portrait of your mother
take those hands and kill that man
standing in the mirror
i was raised on wolve's milk
though it seems i sleep like a lamb
and i was raised on wolves milk
though it seems i sleep like a lamb
Lyrics submitted by shakeshake
Track duration: 05:20
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I love the female back vocals of the chorus. I don't think it's about a werewolf. I think that's a bit too literal. The werewolf imagry is (in my opinion) used as a metaphore to illustrate both the duality of man (righteousness vs. indulgence) and the animalistic way we act upon our urges toward the opposite sex. I love the theme of self-hatred.... ("your father warned you about temptation, and all the wicked women that it breeds, when you met her you knew life was over, her damnation is what your body needs") this man grew up as many people did - with the lie that sex was something evil. He's turning into a beast over the lust for a woman, and is willing to go to hell for it. He hates himself, but he can't help himself..... he will have her.... so sexy.
Righteous.
We've all met those women we know are going to completely and utterly destroy everything in our lives.
But holy shit, is it really, really fun.
I don't know about whole Oedipus complex reference, but that's just me.
God I love this band.
These eyes went bad
Trying to see light
God I'm drunk
And I fell on my knife