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Artificial red, smoke, poison consumed In the house of ill repute Is this the way I spend my days In recovery of a fatal disease? On a cloud of pink has to grey And I'm alone again, yeah Someone to hold against my own Alone, untouched is what I crave Artificial Red, smoke, poison consumed In the house of ill repute Is this the place I search for love When my need is within me, a gift from above? From Letras Mania