| Welcome to the end of the night
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| Where everyone reeks of stale smoke, dirty jokes
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| Stop me if you’ve heard this one
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| The ransom’s over, where’s my cut, cut, cut, cut?
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| Skewered on an open flame
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| I bought you off the spit, pose for me
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| Paws and knees trace around the switchblade gash
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| We’re all born fresh but now we rot, rot, rot, rot
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| I’m the bastard kid of a dead beat town
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| You’re just what I need to bring me down
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| I’ve got enough strength for one more round
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| Is that good for you? |
| Well, it’s good for me, baby
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| I’m the lucky son of a bitch you need
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| To keep alive your losing streak
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| I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve
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| Does that work for you? |
| Well, it works for me, baby
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| When you can’t tear your eyes away
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| 'Coz she’s got such a pretty face
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| And a filthy fucking mind
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| And I will wait outside the gates
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| But I won’t leave till you show me what’s on the inside
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| Well, I can’t shake this lack of sleep
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| It feasts on me till you show me what’s on the inside
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| I’m the bastard kid of a dead beat town
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| You’re just what I need to bring me down
|
| I’ve got enough strength for one more round
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| Is that good for you? |
| Well, it’s good for me, baby
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| And our mothers sleep with lottery dreams
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| Our fathers built the pyramid schemes
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| Nothing is ever what it seems
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| But it works for you 'coz it works for me
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| You just had yourself a taste
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| Of how sweet the life could be
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| If you could just leave yours behind |