| Next time we walk down to the docks while welcoming morning sun
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| Well share rations of bread with
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| Drifters and deceivers
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| Know I only see this hour after evenings of infamy
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| There are thousands of you like me
|
| And you’ll be so so sorry
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| When you start to hate the sound of laughter
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| Grinding your teeth down to powder
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| And how rewarding is it just to be alive
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| We could have residence in the worst prison
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| That happens when you die and have friends to carry the casket
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| In the saddest procession
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| And those people say they’re sorry when your soul departs
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| But they recover oh so quick
|
| There are thousands of you like me
|
| And you’ll be so so sorry
|
| When you start to hate the sound of laughter
|
| Grinding your teeth down to powder
|
| There are thousands of you like me
|
| And you’ll be oh so so sorry
|
| When you start to hate the sound of laughter
|
| Grinding your teeth down to powder |