| I left through the door when I left all the lies
|
| Well, you figure out and it won’t happen twice
|
| My feeling on faith is that I call the shots
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| And when it all goes to hell, I just connect the dots
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| Why do you say you’re sorry, baby
|
| When I’m finally up and gone
|
| Well, I leave it to you
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| To make sense of the shambles
|
| You made of yourself
|
| While I carried on
|
| Sometimes when I pour myself too much to drink
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| Yes, like novocaine on the place where I think
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| And the devils I’m fighting don’t seem to mind
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| When they get knocked down
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| They just get back in line
|
| Why do you say you’re sorry, baby
|
| When I’m finally up and gone
|
| Well, I leave it to you
|
| To make sense of the shambles
|
| You made of yourself
|
| While I carried on
|
| Now, do you think for a moment that I’ll be your fool
|
| That I’ll let you down easy, give in to your rules
|
| Woah, you played the joker and thought I would lie
|
| But it’s too late now to apologize
|
| Why do you say you’re sorry, baby
|
| When I’m finally up and gone
|
| Well, I leave it to you
|
| To make sense of the shambles
|
| You made of yourself
|
| While I carried on
|
| Why do you say you’re sorry, baby
|
| When I’m finally up and gone
|
| Well, I leave it to you
|
| To make sense of the shambles
|
| You made of yourself
|
| While I carried on
|
| Oh, you made of yourself
|
| While I carried on |