| I can’t believe it, you of all things
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| It’s been a while; |
| memories deem some kind of anthem
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| Lingering, images settle internally
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| Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings
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| Tempting me softly, but killing our dream
|
| You said it’s over but maybe…
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| It’s the same old thing
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| I can’t believe it, you of all things
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| Coming in homage, devious needs
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| Intimate outlies, weakening
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| Tranquilize slowly, inside of me Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings
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| Tempting me softly, but killing our dream
|
| You said it’s over but maybe…
|
| It’s the same old thing
|
| I gave the softest parts, trumped by the darkest parts
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| Whispered the tender parts, made of idealistic scenes
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| Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me Swaying our sentiments, pulling our strings
|
| Tempting me softly, but killing our dream
|
| You said it’s over but maybe…
|
| It’s the same old thing
|
| It’s the same old thing
|
| It’s the same old thing
|
| It’s the same old thing |