| I’m not myself, I am
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| A broken boxer stuffed with glass and sand
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| This is not how health should feel
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| Songs sung from the lungs of the elderly
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| I’m dead now, check my chest and you’ll see
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| The life has been mined from me, burned for the heat, oh
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| I’m dead now, can you hear the relief
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| As life’s belligerent symphony’s finally cease, oh
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| I put my heart where my mouth is
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| Now I can’t thumb it down again
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| I’ve gone deviled my kidneys
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| Now he’s living inside of me
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| If we can’t bring an exorcist
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| I’ll settle for one of your stiffest drinks
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| We’ll scream hell towards heaven’s door
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| And now I’ll piss on your front porch
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| I’m dead now, check my chest and you’ll see
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| The life has been mined from me, burned for the heat, oh
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| I’m dead now, can you hear the relief
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| As life’s belligerent symphony’s finally cease, oh
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| We’re all dead now, join hands and we’ll sing
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| To the glory of hell and the virtue of sin
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| There’s something wrong with me
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| There’s something wrong with me
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| There’s something wrong with me
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| And it reads nothing like poetry
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| So will you love me in spite of these tics and inconsistencies?
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| There is something wrong with me
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| Oh, there’s something wrong with me
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| Oh, it reads nothing like poetry
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| Oh will you love me in spite of these tics and inconsistencies?
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| There is something wrong with me |