| Since the day I let you in
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| Feeling so cosmopolitan
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| Don’t you know I tried so hard to make a home for you
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| Oh but my cupboard’s mostly empty
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| And you always get upset
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| And now I’m working nights for nickels
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| Just to feed my favorite pit
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| I know it’s easy to remind me of the things I haven’t got
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| I’d be better if you left me here to rot
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| You say that it’s a choice to make a message with my voice
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| But I’m on eggshells when I walk around the living room
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| Cause at the end of the day my nightly news is inundated with your views
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| I start to think there isn’t nothing I can do
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| Cause you move mountains with your anger
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| You swell oceans when you’re sad
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| And you start wars with your rejoicing
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| And you treated me so bad
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| There is a conflict here of interest
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| The interest isn’t mine
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| I start to think about leaving you behind
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| Some definitions of our difference, once invented long maintained
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| Now someone’s dying on a dance floor, you can say that we’re the same but it’s
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| a lie
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| War machines and power dreams and racist, homophobic schemes can’t orient
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| themselves to give the people what they need
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| The ones who live to lead our fights
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| The ones who died to gain our rights
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| The ones collected on your cutting floor shout
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| «Who turned out the lights?»
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| I know I tried |