| What is this thing that lives inside of me
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| Like a plastic gun full of empty threats
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| It keeps me in the dark — have you got one too?
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| It pretends we are apart — not just one but two
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| Should we kill it off, cut out fast and deep
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| When it feels so wrong, ridiculous and cheap
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| Try to find something concrete — have you got one too?
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| Try to pin it down it will flitter out of view
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| But it comes tumbling down, imploding on itself
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| Yes it comes crashing down, every time I sleep
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| Should we chase it off, put a matchstick to the hay?
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| We could stage our own deaths and walk away
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| Oh give me something new I can believe
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| 'Cause I work around the clock and I’m always tired
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| Yes I work round the clock and I’m always tired
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| Should we play along with its little game
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| Just believe this ruse — we could stay this way
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| But I work round the clock and I’m always tired
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| And I know it will let you down, it’s never going to last
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| 'Cause it comes tumbling down, imploding on itself
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| Yes it comes crashing down, every time I sleep |