| We can cap the old times, make playing only logical harm
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| We can cap the old lines, make playing that nothing else will change
|
| But she can read, she can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad
|
| She can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad
|
| Oh, she’s bad
|
| It’s different now that I’m poor and aging. |
| I’ll never see this face again
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| You go stabbing yourself in the neck
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| It’s different now that I’m poor and aging, and I’ll never see this place again
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| and you go stabbing yourself in the neck
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| We can find new ways of living make playing only logical harm
|
| And we can top the old times, clay-making that nothing else will change
|
| But she can read, she can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad
|
| She can read, she can read, she can read, she’s bad
|
| Oh, she’s bad
|
| It’s different now that I’m poor and aging, I’ll never see this place again
|
| You go stabbing yourself in the neck
|
| But it’s different now that I’m poor and aging, I’ll never see this place again
|
| And you go stabbing yourself in the neck
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| It’s in the way that she posed, it’s in the things that she puts in my head
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| Her stories are boring and stuff, she’s always calling my bluff
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| She puts, she puts the weights into my little heart
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| And she gets in my room and she takes it apart
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| She puts the weights into my little heart
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| I said she puts the weights into my little heart
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| She packs it away
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| It’s in the way that she walks
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| Her heaven is never enough
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| She puts the weights in my heart
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| She puts, oh she puts the weights into my little heart |