| You got real fancy instincts
|
| But your mouth is so large
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| I think I see a hundred people in it
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| I guess you like it that way
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| Because youў‚¬"ўre a flop
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| And there ainў‚¬"ўt no more wringer washers
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| To roll your fingers through
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| I see your insides arenў‚¬"ўt the same since 1951
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| Youў‚¬"ўre dying inside a window
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| I saw your face all cut with glass
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| And underneath the window
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| The hands you dug your grave with
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| You could have built an empire
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| He would have helped you now you know
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| Youў‚¬"ўre going to fetch the wind
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| On a unicorn
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| Feet all dangling down
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| Wish them well at the marketplace
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| I fear a fiery face
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| Is staring from the future
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| Itў‚¬"ўs not the way
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| They told me I was a fool
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| Well itў‚¬"ўs your friend and mine
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| And ???
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| The sky is black in a blue night
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| The winter is true or so it may seem
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| Carnival tricks in the corners
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| The floor is made of tracks
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| That follow your footsteps |