My eyes are dead and my throat’s like a black hole

That my family don’t seem so familiar
And my enemies all know my name
And if you hear me tap on your window
Better get on yer knees and pray panic is on the way

My pulse pumps out a beat to the ghost dancer
My eyes are dead and my throat’s like a black hole
And if there’s a god would he give another chancer
An hour to sing for his soul
-Gas Panic, Oasis

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