| You cannot not know that you’re turning my heart to stone
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| You cannot not know that you cut me down to the bone
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| I flew a thousand miles just to see your face
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| Got paper and a pen, bared my heart right there on the page
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| Yeah, you cannot not know
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| And, oh, oh, show me that you got a pulse
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| Show me that you bleed
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| Oh, oh, oh, oh, I’m afraid to ask if you wanna be with me
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| I’m afraid to ask if you wanna
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| It’s so cliché
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| I’m spilling my guts like it’s Valentine’s Day
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| When you get your shit together, it’ll be too late
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| You cannot not know I’ve been waiting here by the phone
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| But when your number comes up I just act like I’m not at home
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| I could distract myself with somebody else
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| Just get drunk and end up in some cheap motel, but I won’t
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| Man, you cannot not know
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| It’s so cliché
|
| I’m spilling my guts like it’s Valentine’s Day
|
| When you get your shit together it’ll be too late
|
| It’s so cliché, cliché
|
| If I’m being honest and if I’m being true
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| I just want you to know I have cried for you
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| If I’m being honest, how’s it you don’t see
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| That I’m afraid to ask if you wanna be with me?
|
| It’s so cliché
|
| I’m spilling my guts like it’s Valentine’s Day
|
| When you get your shit together, it’ll be too late
|
| It’s so cliché, cliché
|
| When you get your shit together, it’ll be too late |