| Yeah; |
| I was at a show
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| Backstage untying my shoes
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| There was your friend from Wireimage
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| Standing beside her was you
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| And Nigo told me don’t do it
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| My nice image would go up in fumes
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| But the head without the ears heard it
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| So you end up in my room
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| Textin' me a hundred times, callin' me a hundred times
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| Hope it is not you this time, damn I gotta change my line
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| Textin me you’re gonna die, call the psychiatric line
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| Friends and family should know why, reportin' this as a crime
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| I bet you heard this song wanna know who I’m talkin' 'bout
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| I said I bet you heard this song wanna know who I’m talkin' 'bout
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| I bet you heard this song wanna know who I’m talkin' 'bout
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| I bet you heard this song wanna know who I’m talkin' 'bout--YOU!
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| Hoo-hoo
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| Yeah baby!
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| And on those frustrated nights
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| E-mails that could evoke tears (I like you, I like you)
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| (I love you, I think I’m dying)
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| My friend asked me for your e-mail address
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| She said she’d take it from here
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| She said she’d tried to walk you through the picture
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| (He doesn’t like you)
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| But for you nothing is clear (why?)
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| Now she too is frustrated and damn
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| That’s been a year
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| Hoo-hoo
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| Yeah baby!
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| As you listen to this song
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| I hope your thought process evolves
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| It’s not your reasoning that’s wrong
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| Its that deep down everything is gone
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| The place is empty, no lights on
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| Instead happiness should be sprawled
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| Across the face of your heart’s wall
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| But you’ll press pause and you’ll just call
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| (*FUUUCK*)
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| Awww baby, you can’t help yourself
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| Hoo-hoo
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| Yeah baby!
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| YOU~!
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| The saxophone makes my head hurt |