| Why did I write the book of love before I knew your name?
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| Why did I memorize the rules, but never play the game?
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| The news are full of lobbyist, and demigods, and populace
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| And you can be as tough to read, but infinitely more rewarding
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| Why did I write the book of love before I knew your name?
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| Why did I waste such precious time fear mongering in vain?
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| The universe is full of misplaced privilege and misogyny
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| And you are both the privilege and the challenge I deserve, I hope
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| So, why are we not enough to save the world, to save ourselves?
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| And why are we not enough for me I’ll never get to heaven, never get to hell
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| I’ll never get it right if I can’t get out of my own way
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| Why did I write the book of love before I knew your name?
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| Why did I go to all that trouble to fan a dying flame
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| The truth is compromised by a creeping normality of lies
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| But you have the distracting touch that gets me to the church in time
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| So, why are we not enough to save the world, and save ourselves?
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| Oh, why are we not enough for me I’ll never get to heaven, never get to hell
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| I’ll never get it right if I can’t get out of my own way
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| The truth is hard to reckon with
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| You fuck with it, it fucks you silly
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| Why did I write the book of love before I knew your name?
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| Why did we never meet cute on the power walk of shame
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| The world is full of tragedies and efforts to desensitize us
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| Never let me off the hook
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| Just hold me so accountable
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| Oh, why are we not enough to save the world, to save ourselves?
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| Oh, why are we not enough for me I’ll never get to heaven, never get to hell
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| We’ll never get it right if we can’t get out of my own
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| Never to roll our eyes again
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| Never, never get it right if we can’t get out of our own
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| Never get to patronize and polarize
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| Will never get it right if we can’t get out of our own hands |