| So when did cigarettes start cluttering your hands?
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| I ponder this some nights alone when I undress
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| And what do you do with those boys I see you with
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| Or better yet, what would I do if you came back?
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| I’d say no, or I hope I could, but I still want you
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| I hope that I die, I die, oh
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| And what do you think I would do after you left?
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| Would I stay sober? |
| I think it’d be much worse, oh
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| I’d cut my arms off, I’d cut my arms off
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| I’d cut my arms off, I’d cut my arms off, I’d cut them off
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| No regeneration, regeneration, regeneration |