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Fourth Degree Burns lyrics

Her touch is electric caresses
Like storms pleasure at the threshold
I see everything sour before it's ripe

And disappear but tonight her lips are real
And kissing like a head on collision

Her touch is electric caresses
Like storms pleasure at the threshold
I see everything sour before it's ripe

Part of these releases

• 
• • Track 10 on Phantom Limb
  • 9 Heathen Temple
  • 11 Alexandria

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