| Imagine waking up in your own body
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| Naked on a brown leather couch
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| The room is unfamiliar, and all of a sudden, you are 95 years old
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| It’s hot in the room, and the temperature increases
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| As it passes back and forth between your newly wrinkled skin
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| And the genuine leather of the couch
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| You cannot get up, where would you run to?
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| You don’t even know where you are
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| Susan woke up every day wishing she had bigger hands, she said
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| «Am I the perfect woman, am I an
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| Unfinished man?»
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| She walked back home, she tried to grow her roots in sinking sand
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| She said, «he told me that he loves me, but he don’t know who I am and I’m just
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| Hangin' out on
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| Peroxide Beach
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| So sour, don’t got the power, don’t got the energy
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| So if you see the water start to get too deep
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| Just let me sleep
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| Just let me sleep
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| Just let me"
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| Hours have passed now or maybe they haven’t
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| The sun exploded years ago so it’s impossible to know
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| You notice that you and the couch are not very different
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| And you start to feel sick
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| You know you’ll be here forever
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| So is everything you’ve cared about before today rendered totally meaningless
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| Or is the weight of the world even greater with its loss?
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| Speaking of weight, I ate way too much fucking salt today
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| Holy shit
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| «And when my body bloats and wrinkles and my skin turns green and blue
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| I want the whole wide world to know I didn’t like a single one of you except for
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| Overdose Elvis, 'cause when you’re, when you’re dead you’re chillin'
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| And the King of the Jungle who’s about to leave the building
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| And I’m just
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| Hangin' out on
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| Peroxide Beach
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| So sour don’t got the power don’t got the energy"
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| So when you see Susan caught up in the
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| Undertow just let it go
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| Just let it go
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| Just let it
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| On the floor in front of you there’s a frozen metal spoon
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| You immediately pick it up and put it in your mouth
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| Hoping it’ll help you cool off
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| Horrified, you feel the silver melt around your tongue
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| You try to remove it, but it stretches and stretches like an infinite rope of
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| taffy
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| Drenched and claustrophobic, you try to cry
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| But all your body’s liquids have already poured out through your skin
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| You hear a voice ask
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| «Is she gonna be okay? |
| Does she need to go to the hospital?»
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| «Yes! |
| Help!» |
| you attempt, but it’s no use
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| The metal taffy has already hardened, locking your jaw shut
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| They were never listening anyway
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| «She'll be fine,» another voice replied
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| «Probably just sweating out the venom
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| Give her 'til Tuesday»
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne
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| Susan, Suzanne |