| My god you’re bloody ugly when you’re miserable
|
| Don’t you think it’s time that you cheat up
|
| Maybe we could talk and work things out
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| If only I could find out what was up
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| But everytime I try to find out what is on
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| You turn away and tell me to shut up
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| Maybe it was something that I did my dear
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| Maybe it was something that I’ve said
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| Everytime I try to cuddle up to you
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| You look at me as if you wish me dead
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| One of the greatest misteries in the world to me
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| Is what goes on inside your little head
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| When I ask what’s wrong you say nothing
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| When that it’s obviously isn’t right
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| You tell me you are sleeping on the sofa
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| And I’m in for another lonely night
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| It must be something that I have done then
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| That leave you feeling so uphold
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| But now there’s little chance that I will find out
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| Cause you refused to talk to me at all
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| You said it early there’s no point in saying
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| If I do not already know
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| But that is a school of …
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| To which I thought you … don’t belong
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| Perhaps I’ll go outside throw myself into the well
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| And you’ll be rid of me forever more
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| But at least before I die please put my mind at rest
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| And tell me what it is I’m dying for
|
| My god you’re bloody ugly when you’re miserable
|
| Don’t you think it’s time that you cheat up
|
| Maybe we could talk and work things out
|
| If only I could find out what was up
|
| But everytime I try to find out what is on
|
| You turn away and tell me to shut up |