| I’m done with poetry
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| I’m done with prose
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| I’m done with dressing up these words in delicate clothes
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| I’m done with dancing on this here box
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| Like a begging dog
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| I’m done with smoke screens
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| And fancy veils
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| I’m done with all this petty decorating of myself
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| I’m hanging up these whistles and bells
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| ‘cos I can tell
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| That none of my tricks work on you
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| No matter what I do
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| You seem to see straight through
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| Why don’t they work on you?
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| I’m done with high heels ribbons and bows
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| I’m done with pulling up my skirt so that you rethink saying no
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| I’ve got no cards left up my sleeve
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| I’ve tried everything to please
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| But none of my tricks work on you
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| No matter what I do
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| You seem to see straight through
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| Why don’t they work on you?
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| Guess you should want me the way I am
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| Truth is I want to be more than that
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| So I’m gonna find me someone to believe
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| Only the versions I show them of me
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| Yeah I’m gonna find me someone I can
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| Hold in the palm of my hand
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| Cos none of my tricks work on you
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| No matter what I do
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| You seem to see straight through
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| Why don’t they work on you?
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| Why don’t my tricks work
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| Why don’t my tricks work
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| Why don’t my tricks work on you baby?
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| Why don’t my tricsk work, why don’t all my tricks work
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| Why don’t my tricks work on you?
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| Cos you’re the only one I wanna fool |