| I’m used to apartments with walls that are weak
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| Sometimes I hear it all, if my neighbours must speak
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| But the recent apartment and bedroom I got
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| Started out seeming decent more boring than not
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| For two or three years nothing happened at all
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| There was an old man next door,
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| that I would see in the hall
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| He shuffled politely, wears an old suit
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| You know a standard old geezer, A quiet old Coot
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| He used to seem normal but then all at once
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| He started these nocturnal groanings and runts
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| It’s hard to get used to, it gives me the creeps
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| Pretty much every night now he screams when he sleeps
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| Dark night of our souls,
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| Dark night of our heart
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| Dropping down the bottomless hole
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| I just need to get some sleep,
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| I don’t know when I might begin,
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| But I don’t want another minute
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| In this same old story, purgatory
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| Stop the torture, old man and please
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| don’t be myself from the future.
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| If it was a dog bark or a screaming infant
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| I’d probably be fine, back to sleep in an instant
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| Picture me lying there, alone in my bed
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| When this old man just lets out
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| these shrieks near my head
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| And now every night at like three in A.M.
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| I get woken up by this miserable mayem
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| Who’s being dismembered, what the Hell’s wrong
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| I’m feared he will send me insane before long
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| And it makes me afraid, just to be me like I’am
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| It could be my fatal moments screaming old man
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| Tell me what did he do?
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| In his youth, for this torture
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| And what about him
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| Is it true is that he’s me in the future
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| Dark night of our soles
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| Dark night of hearts
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| Dropping down the bottomless hole.
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| I just need to get some sleep
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| I don’t where I might begin
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| But I don’t want another minute
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| In this same old story, Purgatory
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| Stop the torture Old man
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| And please don’t be my myself from the future
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| I’m used to apartments with walls that are weak
|
| Sometimes I hear it all, if my neighbours would speak
|
| But the recent apartment and bedroom I got
|
| Started out seeming decent more boring than not
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| But now it’s like trying to sleep In some Guantanamo cell block
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| Or some hospital hell hole for some horrible shell-shock
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| Or some Medieval dungeon with sadistic conditions
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| Or some pitiful someone is getting whipped while you listen
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| And you know in the dark, when your mind is just spinning
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| You get visions of weird things, there’s no end or beginnings
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| I just thought for a bit and end up screaming some more
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| I’m scared that’s it’s me and I’m the him from before
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| I guess that It’s paranoid, fantasies of drive-by scenario’s
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| That seem dumb in the daylight, but Ponaro gets very told
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| Dark night of our soles
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| Dark night of hearts
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| Dropping down the bottomless hole.
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| I just need to get some sleep
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| I don’t where I might begin
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| But I don’t want another minute
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| In this same old story purgatory
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| Stop the torture Old man
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| And please don’t be my myself from the future
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| Well you know Jeffrey, it’s true what you say
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| I once was like you then I turned out this way
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| I lived my whole life, complaining love wasn’t there
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| It was never enough to sacrifice for a care
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| And I once had a cat and one or two Pals
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| And I would go and hang out sort of that way you do now
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| But now all I can do now, is just scream in the dark
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| There’s the pain inside ninety year empty and heartless
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| If you grow seeking freedom you’re a rose breathing bloom
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| So you know it’s already leading you down the road to this room
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| Though I’d get glory from war and dark and entrenched
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| Then i spent forty years in a park, on a bench
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| And I throw away substantially, hopeless eventually
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| You just permanently shrieking like me,
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| Like you were meant to be
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| I was sent out as a warning, but as an acceptance
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| So accept it
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| It is already written
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| It is already happening
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| It’s already here
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| AAARRrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh… |