| We’d wake before daylight
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| Practice up until noon
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| He wanted perfection
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| Always the same tune
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| After all the shitty things you’d done for me
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| I left you in a ditch
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| You were the bank but I was the star on the silver screen
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| My cheeks made blind men see and they all rose for me
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| But after all the pretty things you’d done for me
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| I left you in a ditch
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| My voice grew hoarse reciting words that you know so well
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| Though no one heard, they would so soon
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| Once my sound was known to the finest tastes that set global tone
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| «And I’ll helm the seas of a burgeoning scene as the new-come queen
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| While you lick your wounds in a hole that’s black perpetually»
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| A pink caterpillar with six anorexic children let me stay
|
| But I had to keep moving through anteater town
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| After anteater town after anteater town after anteater town after anteater town
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| I’d spent all your cash by the time I got to Schlagenheim
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| And your name was gouged, it was no use
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| To think that you could play
|
| But despite all the stupid plans you set for me
|
| You’re still in that ditch
|
| And I was led here after some talk of atmospheres
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| I skipped the line, made it known that I was one to see
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| The desk was pain, said I did not fit
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| No time for ploys and games, I made my way
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| Through flocks of imbeciles, I crawled through my entry point
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| But the curtain drew, I was too late
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| In a white suit stuffed with hay, you were on stage
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| You were on stage, you were on stage, you were on stage
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| You were on stage, you were on stage, you were on stage
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| You were on stage, you were on stage, you were on stage
|
| Lights came dim and hands came one
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| Though not for me
|
| He sat and began the sound
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| It sang the chords of my memory, implying that tune |