| I’ve got a pistol in a paper bag
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| That says you’re not sorry
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| That says you’re not sorry
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| That says you’re not sorry
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| Who would have thought you said you were
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| Ready to sacrifice the cure
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| When there’s an art to staying clean
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| In a place where smoking is the scene
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| I’ve got a pistol and a plastic bag
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| Full of hallucinogenic shwag
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| We know the guilt will drift away
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| As soon as we forget about today
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| I’ve got a bottle and a gas soaked rag
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| That says you’re into me
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| That says you’re into me
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| That says you’re into me
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| Who would have thought that it just begun
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| Ready to sacrifice your lungs
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| When your stress is the first thing on your list
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| And looking cool comes |