| I will be the fire on your lips
|
| But I’m overlooked and underfed
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| You keep me in the basement
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| Where you threw me out with the bathwater
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| And I will be the fury in your fists
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| Throwing out the things
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| The things I thought I wanted to be
|
| Wasting so much time
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| On things I thought I wanted to be
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| I just see a little baby boy
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| Who won’t admit that he fucks up, oh
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| He’s looking for the fire and the fury it takes to be a man
|
| But I just see a little baby boy
|
| Throwing out the things
|
| The things I thought I wanted to be
|
| Wasting so much time
|
| On things I thought I wanted to be
|
| Got a brand new face
|
| So brittle that it’s falling apart
|
| It’s a brand new day
|
| This time why don’t we take it from scratch?
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| Your arms believe, they are for reaching
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| Reach for me
|
| Your tongue believes, it is for tasting
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| Taste of me
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| I’ve got a secret
|
| And you’ve got a problem
|
| I’ll disappear, oh, I’ll disappear
|
| Throwing out the things
|
| The things I thought I wanted to be
|
| Wasting so much time
|
| On things I thought I wanted to be
|
| Got a brand new face
|
| So brittle that it’s fallin apart
|
| It’s a brand new day
|
| This time why don’t we take it from scratch? |