| This house is a circus, berserk as fuck
|
| We tend to see that as a perk, though
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| Look what it’s done to your friends
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| Their memories are pretend
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| And the last thing that they want is for the feeling to end
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| This house is a circus, berserk as fuck
|
| We tend to see that as a perk, though
|
| Look what it’s done to your friends
|
| Their memories are pretend
|
| And the last thing that they want is for the feeling to end
|
| There’s a room full of trouble and there’s lovers to be had
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| Those ones who make sinners out of such lovely lads
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| Scaling the corridors for maidens in the maze
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| And the anomaly is slipping into familiar ways
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| And we’re forever unfulfilled and can’t think why
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| Like a search for murder clues in dead man’s eyes
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| Forever unfulfilled and can’t think why
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| Like a search for murder clues in dead man’s eyes
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| The more you open your mouth, the more you’re forcing performance
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| And all the attention is leading me to feel important
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| (Gimme obnoxious, gimme obnoxious now)
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| Now that we’re here, we may as well go too far
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| Wriggling around in incidents you won’t forget
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| There’s certainly some venom in the looks that you collect
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| Aimlessly gazing at the faces in the queue
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| And we’re struggling with the notion that it’s life, not film
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| This house is a circus, berserk as fuck (We're forever unfulfilled)
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| We tend to see that as a perk, though (Can't think why)
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| Look what it’s done to your friends
|
| Their memories are pretend (Like a search for murder clues)
|
| And the last thing that they want is for the feeling to end |