| She lead me down the garden path and bled me dry, dry
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| She did her make up in the reflection of my glassy, glazed eyes
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| She buried me in the churchyard where she wed me long ago
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| My father saw red and said «you couldn’t even pronounce the poor boy’s name!»
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| And whilst I’m turning in my grave and wasting away
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| My name’s still driving the girl insane
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| All fifteen letters addressed to her
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| As a reminder of what she’d done
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| She checked in to the hospital in Denton, Texas
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| She told them about my name, they said
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| «We're sorry but there’s nothing to remove this tattoo from your brain»
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| Now I’m the voice inside her head
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| I’m in her bed
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| I’m in the walls that she hides between
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| All fifteen letters addressed to her, as a reminder
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| And whilst I’m turning in my grave and wasting away
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| My name’s still driving the girl insane
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| All fifteen letters addressed to her
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| As a reminder of what she’d done
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| The moon is on it’s back tonight
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| The moon is on it’s back tonight
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| Her breath is much colder now she is the older, not I
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| The moon is on it’s back tonight
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| The moon is on it’s back tonight
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| My name will remain an unclimbable mountain in live |