| Little rough rhinestone
|
| Where will your love go today?
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| Sometimes you think
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| You had none to start with anyway
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| You will lose the deep pools
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| And the blues will cloud up
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| Your frightened little eyes
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| And the cold comes to claim you inside
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| You sit writing letters to imaginary friends
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| That you left behind in your mind
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| The deep dark red doorways
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| Call to a limbo of loneliness
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| Where a million rhinestones sit and cry
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| I never knew sorrow
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| Could hit me this way
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| I once had a friend
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| But he moved away
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| And even my mother
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| When she turned on me
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| Couldn’t put emotion like this in me
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| Fist into glass into head (someone else’s head)
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| They beat you up so badly
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| That your eyes
|
| Show the look of the nearly dead
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| The wagon will come and scoop up
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| What’s left of the sorry debris
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| And you’ll take the place
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| Of a hundred other little Johnny’s
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| That went the very same way
|
| I never knew sorrow
|
| Could hit me this way
|
| I once had a friend
|
| But he moved away
|
| And even my mother
|
| When she turned on me
|
| Couldn’t put emotion
|
| Like this in me
|
| And screaming out loud
|
| He ran crashing through the crowd
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| He ran crashing through the crowd
|
| He ran crashing through the crowd
|
| Screaming
|
| God if you’re up there
|
| I need you
|
| Where are you?
|
| I need you
|
| Where are you?
|
| I need you…
|
| Where are you?
|
| When I need you? |