| If it howls in the night, you walk it
|
| Walks to the edge?
|
| You off it
|
| Have something to say?
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| You’re a prophet
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| They like what you say, so you profit
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| You called for a shrink?
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| Yo, I got this
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| You’re not all there
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| But you’re not sick
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| Tell me all your problems darling;
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| Tell me that the world’s been cruel and your starving
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| I don’t mess around with plastic viles with the smiles
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| Not my style
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| Ups, downs, baby, I’m monastic
|
| I pray to the Gods on the plastic classics
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| You called?
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| Let it ring
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| Yo, I got this, feeling I should stay at the apartment
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| And tell you all my problems, darling;
|
| Tell you that the world’s been cruel and I’m starving
|
| There are a days
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| Where that sun won’t shine on you
|
| So you set a fire
|
| And you let it burn through
|
| Where you gonna run when the storm hits?
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| I’ll be at the eye, smiling wide, in the thick of it
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| You’re missing it
|
| I love a good beating
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| I revel in it just like a pig in shit
|
| You called for a sign?
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| Yo I got this
|
| We’re all fucked up and we’re all sick
|
| Learn to love the lows, my darling
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| You’ll be feelin' better in the light from the morning
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| I don’t care
|
| I don’t know
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| I don’t talk about them no more
|
| 'Cause you gotta be crazy keepin' the past on the tip of your tongue
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| Under the small of your back, in your pocket
|
| That’s where your spine is
|
| The word is «forgotten»
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| That’s what you need to be callin' the ones that keep you up at night:
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| «forgotten» |