Right shine, pale eyes My shoone, thru her size Shy stones, square end foals Sold faith To fake it down on the muse To show the call in her eyes She says it's alright, sold in dye Although it sounds alright, it's still fake So hanged noose, suicide Pole eyes, to shoot the plate off of the trash And hold her down in the grain, why say it's alright Sold in dye, to shoot the plate off of the trash She sounds drunk, she sells death Pink tools, don't fight this part So pull tight, to feel the shame Full tribes, and breaks it down on the floor It's cold and breaking in size, why it's alright Sold in by, although it feels alright it's still fake Right time, thru lies My fume She paints a fake smile caught in a frame It's alright, sold in dye So shoot the plate off of the trash Fakes it down to the bind, yeah