| When it began,
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| Oh How you tread with care
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| you held his hand,
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| and wondered how you’d fare,
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| with he who claimed to be a stray,
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| though he liked to lead the way
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| The time it passed and the worry disappeared,
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| you talked and laughed,
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| as he slowly drew you near
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| soft as he was only then
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| as you fell in love with him
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| If you let down your guard,
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| He’ll run right through your heart
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| If he cuts a piece away
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| You’ll have to share the blame
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| when you’re feeling strong
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| you dont think on him at all
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| but when you’re not
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| you’re cold as you recall
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| You lay yourself upon his bed,
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| Anything you want you said
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| Ooohh…
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| Bright and crisp
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| on the day he drew the knife
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| at least he was quick
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| though he never answered why
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| he just walked away and dropped the blade,
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| He’ll get cut too, just not by you.
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| If you let down your guard,
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| He’ll run right through your heart
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| If he cuts a piece away
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| You’ll have to share the blame
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| The blame… |