| When you cut the nerve
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| I don’t feel a thing
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| They say that I will walk
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| And I know you’ll try to sing
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| But I don’t mind wasting time
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| There is nothing I can do
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| They say that I will walk
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| Oh, but that might not be true
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| But I know that I can crawl
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| Just like glass after the attack
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| I can let the maggots eat
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| The death flesh off my back
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| So learn to say it now
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| With the correct pronunciation
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| They say that I will walk
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| It’s only denervation
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| When I hit the ground
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| You don’t feel a thing
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| But I can’t get up and dance
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| To those notes that you can’t sing
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| And when it breaks the bone
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| The trauma hard and blunt
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| Well, I can’t get up and dance
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| Darlin', this is not a stunt
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| But I know that I can crawl
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| With your
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| Dead weight on my back
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| I can forage in the woods
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| And fend off all attacks
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| So say it to me now
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| Make a formal proclamation
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| You think that you will walk
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| Oh, what vivid imagination |