| As a child I felt inclined
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| To fold my ears in twine
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| Never once was I confined
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| I picked and choosed about my ride
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| So buckle me in before we set sail ahead
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| For it smells like cabbage
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| Got way too stale like death
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| Oh you’re white as a ghost, I never felt so pale
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| As the blood dripped across the floor
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| So put it buried in your chest
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| With the rest of your drunken regrets
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| Inches from your jugular
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| As the room fills up in front of ya
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| It took them long enough
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| For them to stop and suggest
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| Hey we better get him some help
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| We better get him out of here
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| How did I manage to cope as the blood soaked
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| Through my clothes and to the floor
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| From outside
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| To the bathroom door
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| I was inches from my life
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| Yeah that’s what keeps me up at night
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| Oh how did I survive, you should’a died
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| How did I manage to cope being alive
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| After all it was just a innocent play fight
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| I hope they don’t stop to sympathise
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| Oh, stitch up the past to cure their whoremented heart, ah
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| Oh, tormented dreams it’s all left in between |