| Do you wanna be the animal to take me apart
|
| Break my patience, corrupt my sacred art?
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| Do you promise to be with me if I beg and I crawl
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| In my darkest mood, through the private wars?
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| Will you stay… even when the drugs have gone?
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| For it won’t be long before I tumble
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| Turning into the anxious clown
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| That just just won’t come down
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| In fire, in whispers
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| I would die for a million years
|
| I promise to be your rock star
|
| But then promises don’t mean anything anymore
|
| In the summer of 2005 was the correcting
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| Of excuses of our need to win
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| To ourselves we lied we could be the new beginning
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| Digging up treasures, taking the time to love
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| And to live and to sin and you stayed…
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| Even when the drugs were gone
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| So I sing this song
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| To you on our island
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| Of never-ending poetry
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| It’s just just you and me
|
| In fire, in whispers
|
| I would die for a million years
|
| I promise to be your rock star
|
| But then rock stars don’t mean anything anymore |