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Next time we walk down to the docks |
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While welcoming the morning sun |
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We'll share rations of bread with |
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Drifters and deceivers |
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Know I only see this hour after |
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Evenings of infamy |
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There are thousands of you like me |
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And you'll be so so sorry |
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When you start to hate the sound of laughter |
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Grinding your teeth down to powder |
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How rewarding is it |
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Just to be alive we could have residence |
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In the worst prison |
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That happens when you die and have |
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No friends to carry caskets in the saddest procession |
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Those people often say they're sorry |
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When your soul departs |
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But they recover oh so quick |
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There are thousands of you like me |
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And you'll be so so sorry |
|
When you start to hate the sound of laughter |
|
Grinding your teeth down to powder |
|
There are thousands of you like me |
|
And you'll be so so sorry |
|
when you start to hate the sound of laughter |
|
Grinding your teeth down to powder |