| Sadness has filled a lonely place
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| Before that there’s just a hole
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| At least now there’s sadness on my face
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| My lower lip has finally found it’s role
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| So the wind and the rain and the snow
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| Had no particular place to go
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| So they thought they’d come and spend some time with me
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| They’re better friends than you could ever be
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| There’s a tattoo, a small tattoo
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| Waiting there unpaid for you
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| And if you ever bump into Unlucky
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| Don’t forget who broke your heart in two
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| You better get there early, there’s a million in the queue
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| Just waiting for the name on their tattoo
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| Emptiness has filled a vacant heart
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| And finally found a place for it to hide
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| And as I wander like a fool from bar to bar
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| Empty has become my greatest guide
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| And the tears and the pain and the despise
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| Looks at me through bankrupt eyes
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| And they had nowhere else that they could land
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| So I invited them to take my bloody hand
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| So queuing for a tattoo and I can’t decide the name
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| I’ve been wondering night after night
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| When they put that needle in me I’ll scream your name in pain
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| And I hope he spells 'you bastard' right
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| B-A-S-T-A-R-D, stick that needle deep in me
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| B-A-S-T-A-R-D, stick that needle deep in me
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| In me, in me, in me
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| Stick that needle deep in me |