| Hey Little Trouble, what you doing tonight?
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| I got a bad thought, you can make it right
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| Fell on the concrete with all my might
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| Got up, dusted myself off, now I’m ready for the fight
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| Not every prodigy can age that well
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| Not every mannequin can stand so fucking still
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| When everyone’s gone, you’re dancing alone
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| When everything’s done, still working the phones
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| For lazy tarot readings on hot June nights
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| Right next to that bodega’s a neon sign
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| They’ll tell you you were famous in some past life
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| But now you’re just a Regular Joe whose cover is blown
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| Well, tell me, baby, what’s your biggest conceit?
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| Is it that you did it, or you did it with me?
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| I can’t imagine what the problem could be
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| You found one song that you like, and you just play it on repeat
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| Not every certain death can be so brave
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| Not every psychopath can act so well-behaved
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| But what if the bomb just doesn’t go off?
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| Still playing that song, still dancing alone
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| For clumsy ballerinas with Dad’s blank check
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| There’s a place in Altadena that sounds perfect
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| Well, they’ll let you be the swan even with missteps
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| And clap until your body is sore
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| For now it’s just a matter of right place, right time
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| Singing «Every little thing’s gonna be all right»
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| On some pretty college campus with skin so white
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| Three chords and an expensive guitar
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| It’s the luck of the draw
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| Found a place to blind your darkness with bright strobe lights
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| No cops, no fire marshals, can dance all night
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| With your sad-eyed doppelgänger you look just like
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| Your heartbreak’s not your own anymore
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| I’ll tell you that I love you, I’ll scream it twice
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| You ask over the music, «Did I hear that right?»
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| Yes, I swear I told you in some past life
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| Right before they counted us off
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| It’s the luck of the draw |