| It takes character to make a decision
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| It takes more to stand firm and follow through
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| But some stand points are more than I can live up to
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| Performed an exorcism on myself
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| Cited prayers and rites of deliverance
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| Yet here I am, somehow still possessed
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| The future’s never starting
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| The present never ends
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| I left us both bombarded
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| But I’m not here to make amends
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| Fondling the thighs of forfeit
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| I guess I can’t brush aside
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| I’m waiting for the day the music dies
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| Oh the places one looks for makeshift
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| I tried to ruin myself for you
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| Hoping that you’d rather resent than miss
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| How can one kill an impulsion
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| When it’s still kicking and breathing
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| Forces are a cut above the will of the self
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| The future’s never starting
|
| The present never ends
|
| I left us both bombarded
|
| But I’m not here to make amends
|
| Fondling the thighs of forfeit
|
| I guess I can’t brush aside
|
| I’m waiting for the day the music dies
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| Jumping from one bosom to the next
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| Hitting every branch in the fall
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| Beaten to a pulp by every caress
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| In the tempest, unaffected by it all
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| And I’m hoping that the end is nigh
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| I’m waiting for the day the music
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| Waiting for the day the music dies |