| Coffee house, blue skies
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| I walk around crying
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| About the things I will never say to you, love
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| About the things I’ll never be to you, love, oh
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| Shivers pass, and all my legs harness the pain into the pavement
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| About the things I’ll never be to you, love
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| And all the things I will never say to you, love
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| Boy, money in your mouth
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| You’re surrounded by models opening bottles for you
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| Money in your mouth
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| Devour beauty, it never comes out
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| Turn around, bright eyes
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| And listen to that song on that peak, 'cause it’s what you like
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| And kiss me once, it was fine
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| But only 'cause I pictured you the whole time
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| And think of the things I will never say to you, love
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| Think of the things I’ll never be to you, love
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| It’s not what I want, it’s not what I want
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| It’s not what I want
|
| Boy, money in your mouth
|
| You’re surrounded by models opening bottles for you
|
| Money in your mouth
|
| Devour the beauty that never comes out
|
| Boy, with that chip on your shoulder
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| I bet it feels bad gettin' older
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| Oh, oh, feels bad, I bet it feels bad
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| Tainted love slips through your iris
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| Don’t place your bits on it, three months isn’t worth it
|
| Boy with money in your mouth
|
| You’re surrounded by models opening bottles for you
|
| Money in your mouth
|
| Devour the beauty that never comes out
|
| Boy, with that chip on your shoulder
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| I bet it feels bad gettin' older
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| Oh, oh, feels bad, I bet it feels bad |