| Damn, your mom has secretly been renting out your home
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| I used the shower sponge when you went to Spain alone
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| She told us it’s been rough and you deserved a break
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| And marrying that guy, obviously was a mistake
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| You had a couple kids but now he’s always gone
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| And you’re stuck sweeping hair at your mommy’s hair salon
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| The flat you have upstairs, tucked in the suburbs safe
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| Is running low on bread and other amenities
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| 'Cause your mom’s secretly renting your place
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| Damn, your elevator looked in hella disrepair
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| But I’m not fucking with a dozen flights of stairs
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| I tenderized my legs somewhere in Germany
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| Trying to convince the bored to pay attention to me
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| The absinthe that we drank? |
| I’m not sure it was real
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| Massage place in the building? |
| We know what’s the fucking deal
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| 'Cause fratboys wait outside, pretending they’re not there
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| Avert their glassy eyes, but I don’t really care
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| I don’t wanna lay in bed and stare at the ceiling
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| While chasing the fleeting
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| There’s too much in my head to sleep
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| And I did the thing that movie said
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| «Foot on the floor beside the bed»
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| Still too much in my head to sleep
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| Too much in my head to sleep
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| Too much in my head to sleep tonight
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| Get fucked up, bruise your stupid bones again
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| Get, get fucked up, lose your telephone again
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| Get, get fucked up, bother all your friends again
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| Get, get fucked up, shame your broken heart again
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| I really gotta leave, but I just wanna stay
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| I’m only a real person for a quarter-dozen days
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| Until I gotta scram, until I go away
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| And turn into a person that I wouldn’t wanna meet
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| Cultivating mold on my laundry
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| And becoming so afraid I’m honestly
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| Placing bets on a chemical crapshoot with my brain
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| Cleaning for the dealer so I’ll black out on the plane
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| Stumbling in the dark and living vicariously
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| Through a photo album in a stranger’s BNB |