| In love I watched you change into a man
|
| Mirrored in my skin you looked your best
|
| And I would rather you stay innocent
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| Than you discovering who I really am
|
| I would’ve worn a warning
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| If I knew what was wrong
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| But you discovered layers
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| That I knew nothing of
|
| Convinced that you could save me
|
| Took years to see the truth
|
| That it had been imprinted
|
| Set in rock start from youth (?)
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| There’s a certain kind of madness
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| That just cannot be explained
|
| Under sympathetic sadness
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| Beastly anger left untamed
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| There’s a certain kind of pleasure
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| In seeing lovers squirm like snakes
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| It’s how easily I measure
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| Just how much me you can take
|
| I really tried to tell you
|
| Run away whilst free
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| While I try to uncover
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| What’s really haunting me
|
| I’d rush while bobbing under
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| Mouth open, bending knees
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| It’s true what people tell you
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| About the apple and the tree
|
| Did you consider leaving
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| When you saw her and me
|
| Talking is charm intriguing (?)
|
| Until I let you see
|
| There’s a certain kind of lover
|
| Makes you question who you are
|
| Makes you hand over your powers
|
| Leave a bulging heart-shaped scar
|
| There are certain kind of memories
|
| That I don’t know where to place
|
| Cannot shake, cannot pretend that
|
| These are things I can erase
|
| I do not understand you
|
| Though grateful for your love
|
| The demon is an old friend
|
| You cannot free me of
|
| (Oh)
|
| There’s a certain kind of lover
|
| Makes you question who you are
|
| Makes you hand over your powers
|
| Leave a bulging-heart shaped scar
|
| There are certain kind of memories
|
| That I don’t know where to place
|
| Cannot shake, cannot pretend that
|
| These are things I can erase
|
| I do not understand you
|
| Though grateful for your love
|
| The demon is a old friend
|
| You cannot free me of |