| Now you read through the lives of the saints
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| And you said if I was a saint, I’d have a bigger beggar’s bowl
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| But now all you read is a list of complaints
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| Bitterness poisons the soul
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| You’re a student of archaeology
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| And you take comfort in cities that fall
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| When you smashes your place up
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| You thought you were making history
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| Bitterness poisons the soul
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| You took your name apart and then you put it back
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| As someone you never wanted to know
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| Now you’re just as helpless as those you attack
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| Bitterness poisons the soul
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| I don’t know if I will ever love again
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| You like to wear expensive designer shades
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| You’re so cool you turn spring into fall
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| But you find as the world darkens, it’s you that fades
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| Bitterness poisons the soul
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| You dig through your closets for old truths
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| You used to wear like an actor who forgot his role
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| Like a coward jonesing for the next big scare
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| Bitterness poisons the soul
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| I don’t know if I will ever love again |