| Care not for the men who wonder
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| Straw that broke your back, you’re under
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| Cast all them aside who care
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| Empty eyes and dead end stare
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| Don’t you know that none are blind
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| To the lie, and you think I don’t find what you hide?
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| What in God’s name have you done?
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| Stick your arm for some real fun
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| For the horse you’ve grown much fonder
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| Than for me, that I don’t ponder
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| As the hair of one who bit you
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| Smiling bite your own self, too
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| And I think that you’re not blind
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| To the ones you left behind
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| I’ll be here
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| What in God’s name have you done?
|
| Stick your arm for some real fun
|
| So be yearning all your life
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| Twisting, turning like a knife
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| Now you know the reasons why
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| Can’t get high, or you will die
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| Or you’ll die
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| What in God’s name have you done?
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| Stick your arm for some real fun
|
| So your sickness weighs a ton
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| And God’s name is smack for some
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| Yeah |