| Logically I’m not listening to myself
|
| Why I can’t walk away
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| I need to put it up on my neatly dusted shelf
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| And just dream of another day
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| I don’t know what I’m doing anymore
|
| And I don’t know why I persist
|
| I don’t know what I’m doing anymore
|
| Why I long for those fabulous lips and home
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| Forever indebted to his curiosities
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| Though I see it as a threat
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| Oh but all that he has taught me
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| Through his neglect
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| Mutual admiration
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| Aimless fascination
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| It’s so vexing
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| A complex fling
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| Of things he’ll never know
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| There’s too much to hear
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| The will is not there
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| I’m worth it, I, I swear
|
| I don’t know what I’m doing anymore
|
| And I don’t know why I persist
|
| I don’t know what I’m doing anymore
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| How’d I get myself back into this?
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| He loves me like passing at night
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| A rhyme that he writes but sometimes forgets
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| And I will get just what I need
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| I will end up right where I’m supposed to be
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| And I refuse to be that she
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| So, baby, I know you won’t
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| But don’t cry for me 'cause
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| You don’t know what you’re doing anymore
|
| And you don’t know why you resist
|
| You don’t know what you’re doing anymore
|
| Why you long for these fabulous lips, fabulous home
|
| You don’t know, no, no, no, no, no
|
| And you don’t know, no, no, no, no, no, no
|
| I don’t know, no, no, no, no, no
|
| Yeah, oh, why I long for those fabulous lips and home |