| Cold stares in the night, tears roll down
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| Another sad clown sittin' in the room
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| Eyes rain tears but do you really love me
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| Silent and solemn, Smeagol to gollum
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| Evil done got him
|
| Doctors say we believe its a problem
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| Possessed by a demon, they won’t leave it inside him
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| They gon' leave him on Sunday
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| In a one man confessional with a high fever
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| Dry heaving and hollerin'
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| Check the lock, bolt the door
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| Chop the cord on the boat, float to shore
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| Ain’t no leavin' the island
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| Devil whistles in his ear, out of tune
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| On an empty ass bed, can’t remember how to spoon
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| Can’t forget how the spoon
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| Was the bowl for the soup for his arm
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| When his arm had a cold
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| Now the cold got his feet
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| Tied up in the sheets, sweat drips from his cheeks
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| He’s gonna die in hospital clothes
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| Bed, bed I rest in
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| Not my own
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| These cover make me itch
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| Hurt my head, head I question
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| Not my own
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| These covers make me sick |