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Atlas Air (Instrumental)

Yes shall we take a spin again in business

This time is fixed lets sweeten our facilities

It took all the man in me

To be the dog you wanted me to beShall we take a spin again no witnesses

This time is fixed seven three seven is

You won't feel a thing

Begging until you give it up insaneFish like little silver knives

Make the cuts on my inside

Yeah let him feast my heart is big

My heart is big, my blood will slide in metal studsTourniquet will hold its groove

Tourniquet will keep its grip

It took all the man in me

To be the dog you wanted me to beYeah let him feast my heart is big

My heart is big, my blood will slide

You let him feast my heart is big

My heart is big, my blood will slideGot nothing to lose but my chains

Internet feats on my brains

Head in the sand, feet in the clayAnd time is still like grease it slips

Sucking in, spit in pips

Just spitting pipsNothing to lose but my chains

Internet beats on my brains

Head in the sand, feet in the clayA place to piece, a place to pray?

This gun of smoke is slaying me

And time is still like grease it slips

Suck it in, spit in pips

Yeah spit in pipsMy heart was big and like my pride

Let them feast on my insides

And when the filled had spilled its guts

Gently open then it shutsI'm in the hole

Three thousand days

A buried soul

They live the dream

In terminal

No war too meanI know the drill

Got cells to burn

I'm dressed to kill

A mortal coil

And time is still

On secret soilYeah pay the bills

Cells to burn

Mouths to fill

On Boeing jets

In the sunset make glowing threats

Songwriters

Marshall, Grantley Evan / Naja, Robert Del / Davidge, Neil / Baggott, John MalvernPublished by

Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, SPIRIT MUSIC GROUP

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