| I’m telling you it’s bona fide
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| This feeling that I seek to hide, my
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| Twisted arm, it’s tongue-in-cheek
|
| Let it slip, but not that week
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| Spider crawls across the scrim
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| But is he out or is he in?
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| Between the glass and window frame
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| In Purgatory or in pain?
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| Would you believe me if I said I didn’t have a clue
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| What the words will be until they make it unto you
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| You look away, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there
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| Look me in the eye, tell me that you’re unaware
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| Let it sit another night
|
| Til it starts to sound right
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| Do I let it rot or let it age?
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| Pull the plug and disengag
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| Through the skin there’s tooth and nail
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| Fighting 'for I prvail
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| I choose my betters every day
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| And gauge my wage against decay
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| Would you believe me if I said I didn’t have a clue
|
| What the words will be until they make it unto you
|
| You look away, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there
|
| Look me in the eye, tell me that you’re unaware
|
| Oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh
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| You think it’s easy, but have you ever even had a clue? |
| (Oh, oh, oh)
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| It makes me queasy, knowing that I don’t know what to do (Oh, oh, oh)
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| Every time I turn around, I’m possessed by bitter doubt
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| And when I walk, I’m gonna do it right this time |