| There’s such a beautiful mess up in my room
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| My thoughts are tangled in the legs of chairs
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| I like to think that it’s my token of genius
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| But then again perhaps I just don’t care
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| I’m going crazy with the speed of living
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| I’m leaving parts of me all over the place
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| I think I’ve found a piece that looks like my heart
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| But then again maybe it’s just my face
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| Possession, possession, paying the price
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| Possession, possession, run for my life
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| I charge my dreams up with the cheapest batteries
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| The light goes out and everything looks dim
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| I stumble 'round pretending that I’m dancing
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| Doing fine until the truth breaks in
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| Cameras are thieves, they always take my picture
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| A tape-recorder stole my voice today
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| I think machines and clocks have secret motives
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| But then again (maybe they’re made that way)
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| Possession, possession, paying the price
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| Possession, possession, run for my life
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| I paint my shirt with all the latest outrages
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| Just like I did so many years before
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| It drives me to the brink of pink disaster
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| But I don’t mind, that’s what possession’s for
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| Possession, possession, paying the price
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| Possession, possession, run for my life |