Letra da Música: The Collector - Nine Inch Nails

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I pick things up
I am a collector
And things-well-things which tend to work your mind
I have this net
It drags behind me
It picks up things
For me to feed upon

There are times - plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
They start to breed, and they start to grow inside of me
There are times - plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But they start to make me think things I don't wanna know

[Chorus]
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke
And swallow it all, swallow it all, swallow it all

I am the plaque I am the swarm
All your heart sticks on me
And I keep it warm
They won't let me stay they won't let me leave
They are soo many of them it gets hard to breath

[Chorus]

Every last one every last one every last on every last one [Fading]


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