Son, you know, you need to find some help for you

If you say that we're ill
Give us your pills, hope we'll just go away
But once you've inhaled death
Everything else is perfume

Maybe I'm just a mystery
I can end up your misery
Maybe I'm just a mystery
I can end up your misery

In the end, we all end up in a garbage dump
But I'll be the one that's holding your hand

We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured
We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured

Maybe I'm just a mystery
I can be your misery
Maybe I'm just a mystery

Marry with the left hand
So far, so far from the mad'nin' crowd

We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured
We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured

Am I a man or a show, a moment?
The man in the moon or a man
Of all seasons
Will I be in at the kill
With you?

We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured
We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured

We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured
We are sick
Fucked up and complicated
We are chaos
We can't be cured

We are sick

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Written by: Marilyn Manson / Shooter Jennings. Isn't this right? Let us know.
Sent by Marquinho. Subtitled by marcela. Revised by 4 people . Did you see an error? Send us your revision.

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