| So tell me what I pay for the price of freedom
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| No healthy survival in rooms unattached
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| Just trying to touch you, but never to hold you
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| In this burning confusion, with hands made of clay
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| You’ve got your hand on my heart
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| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| In this prison of nowhere, you’ve played my emotions
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| You’ve stretched my condition, my head is all fire
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| With gates made of iron, like a lamb to the slaughter
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| Emotional torture is a game you enjoy
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| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
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| The importance of nothing, your own bleak conclusion
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| Illusion’s an answer, but never the healer
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| And crippled in silence, the stretch of a lifetime
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| The power to hold me, your pleasure to gain
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| It’s a dicey situation I have found myself in
|
| It’s a dicey situation I have found myself in
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| You’ve got your hand on my heart
|
| On my heart |