| Wash your heart off with hot water,
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| Wash your mouth out with the maker’s meat
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| Walk until you kindly wander,
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| Just make sure you’re wandering towards me You may wake as king tomorrow,
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| If tonight you can just stay off the street,
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| Where I know you feel free
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| This is not for your eyes to see,
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| So won’t you please stop staring at me
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| I think you better find a way out of here,
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| 'Cause I don’t think you’ll like what I’ve become
|
| I think you better find a way out of here,
|
| 'Cause I don’t think you’ll like what I’ve become
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| No, I cannot explain how we always find shelter from the rain
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| When it gets cold and we get carried away,
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| Now we suffer from sunday-window pain
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| You know, we will not be friends tomorrow
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| If tonight we just get under the sheets, and just feel free
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| This is not for your eyes to see,
|
| So won’t you please stop staring at me
|
| I think you better find a way out of here,
|
| 'Cause I don’t think you’ll like what I’ve become
|
| I think you better find a way out of here,
|
| 'Cause I don’t think you’ll like what I’ve become
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| You know, it’s getting very hard for me,
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| To look in the mirror with no reflection of my face
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| But that is not the hardest part for me,
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| It’s just knowing I won’t see the light of day |