| I want to know all about that neck
|
| And I want to be there when you get back
|
| And I want to tell them it was all in my head
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| It was all in my head
|
| And I don’t know why I can’t unclench my fists
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| And it was black ink written on your wrists
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| And it took all of me not to read it
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| It was all in my head
|
| And maybe I could get it out?
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| If I could get you out
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| I thought you thought I was mad?
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| Oh, well I just want to talk
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| And I just want to be there when you get back
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| Is that too much to ask?
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| And he’ll suck at your skin, and he’ll drag the blood to the top
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| And I know this won’t change a thing but I’ve been thinking…
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| What was I supposed to say?
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| What was I supposed to write?
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| I can hear them on the way home sing «Heavy Light» |