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I've been meaning to ask you how life looks from the nose bleed seats |
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and to ask you how it feels to bleed |
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Your life's a waste and the way that I'll ask it |
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will have revenge woven throughout |
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but will be masked with the concern that a friend would bring |
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You're so incomplete |
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Hold a mirror to show just what you've become |
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and read your diary to figure out where things went wrong |
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I don't think I'll ever understand |
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how a cowardly cat can call himself a man |
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You're all show and it's getting old |
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As for the rest of us |
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we'll do fine with what we have |
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making the best of what is left |
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And you're a naysayer |
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who will never know what it's like |
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to really have half a life |
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I've been meaning to harm you |
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in the best way that I see fit |
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I'm not sure if this did the trick |
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but I think It did |
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Hold a mirror to show just what you've become |
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and read your eulogy to figure out where things went wrong |
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I hope one day you understand |
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that a girl on your arm won't make you a man |
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Keep walking down your shallow lonely road |
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It's dark and cold and it's yours and yours alone |
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If you dig too deep |
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are you scared you'll find something? |
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Spoonfuls of shit will surely add up |
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Inside you're begging for a cure for your disease |
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Your life's a crime scene and it won't help to blame it on me |
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As for the rest of us |
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we'll do fine with what we have |
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making the best of what is left |
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And you're a naysayer |
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who will never know what it's like |
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to really have half a life |