| Thought I’d got it right, for once I’d sought and found perfection
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| When you said «I love you» you addressed your own reflection
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| I’d prayed up to the heavens for a goddess of desire
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| The best they had on offer was one devil of a liar
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| You can’t be accused of procrastination
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| One brief separation, the dream went stale
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| You sever all ties with a swift laceration
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| Leave so many loose ends, thereby hangs my tale
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| Were you scared that the truth could have made you fatter?
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| The Queen of Hearts, you dealt me a pack of lies
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| Laughed in my face like it didn’t matter
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| That you’d crossed my heart and I hoped to die
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| Licked my wounds, hugged my chains believing you premenstrual
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| Unaware love could be blind to torture, cruel and mental
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| With regret I must confess I realised too late
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| You redefine endearment as the tender side of hate
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| I’m already broken so don’t kick me better
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| What colour’s the sky in your world, is it green?
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| It seems I’m not even worth one paltry letter
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| Cast off like a tampon you stamp on my dream
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| Were you scared that the truth could have made you fatter?
|
| The Queen of Hearts, you dealt me a pack of lies
|
| Laughed in my face like it didn’t matter
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| That you’d crossed my heart and I hoped to die
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| Could it possibly be that in your dictionary
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| «Love» and «lies» are defined both the same?
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| I know how you can catch your ideal man
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| Join a singles' club for the insane
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| The prize for my stupidity, a noose about my neck
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| Next time that she says «good day» make sure you go and check
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| Mislay your smile, this dacryphile is turned on by sighs
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| When she has her eye on you, good fortune and time flies
|
| You can’t be accused of procrastination
|
| One brief separation, the dream went stale
|
| You sever all ties with a swift laceration
|
| Leave so many loose ends, thereby hangs my tale
|
| Were you scared that the truth could have made you fatter?
|
| The Queen of Hearts, you dealt me a pack of lies
|
| Laughed in my face like it didn’t matter
|
| That you’d crossed my heart and I hoped to die
|
| Both sickened to learn and yet glad to discover
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| That Venus once held me with (ch)arms so fake
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| I’d have once sold my soul for this faithless lover
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| Now I couldn’t give a damn for my little Miss Take |