Twaddles of a Flue Faker

I am a portrait which leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away

The nobblers nailed my feet on the floor
Its starts to rust and attack my blood
I start to feel myself smile
Slowly losing myself
But it did not do the trick
Oh woe is me
Oh can't they see that

I am a portrait which leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away
For I am that portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away

It will be a wrack up I'll make sure
When they stick me up the chimney
And now the air escapes me
Slowly losing myself
But my master dragged me back down
Oh woe is me
Oh can't they see that

I am a portrait which leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away
For I am that portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away

I'll be paper thin and pale
The Scurfs took my life away
I'm patiently sedated
And now my only exit is
Is the cold
Is the cold poetic, Scythe

For I am a portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
I want to run away
For we are a portrait that leaves you sighing sadly
Oh Laissez Faire what have you done?
We want to run away

A thud sounding softly
I secretly disintegrate
Uneasy lamps draw back and forth
I've waited
For so long