| What you try to do to me?
|
| It seems to come so naturally
|
| How you annoy me
|
| How you destroy me
|
| And everywhere I’m walking like a cyclone
|
| But don’t mind me
|
| How’s it fair, I’m a magnet for psychos
|
| And pretty riddles keen on me
|
| You can lightly sling
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| Into my open heavy loving heart
|
| First touch and kissy kissy
|
| Slash-back razor days
|
| The boys not to behave
|
| Oh they’re like hoodlums
|
| Sick of themselves
|
| And sick of their slums
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| Give everybody a gun
|
| And put it on the television
|
| That’s Reality TV, I’d pay to see
|
| Not lobotomized celebrities who wanna be
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| Wanna be the …
|
| Wow, money’s the church, fame is the steeple
|
| Everyone on the telly indoctrinate the people
|
| Now I say though…
|
| What you try to do to me?
|
| It seems to come so naturally
|
| How you annoy me
|
| How you destroy me
|
| And everywhere I’m walking like a cyclone
|
| But don’t mind me
|
| … and chased by a cyclops
|
| … no ships I see
|
| I owe more than I know to faces
|
| Who never show the places off the hood
|
| It’s understood and obvious tomorrow
|
| Free bags full of sorrow
|
| First touch and kissy kissy
|
| Slash-back razor days
|
| The boys not to behave
|
| Everywhere I’m walking like a cyclone
|
| But don’t mind me
|
| It’s not fair, I’m a magnet for psychos
|
| And pretty little riddles keen on me
|
| You can lightly sling
|
| Into my open heavy loving heart
|
| First touch and here you are
|
| Where they put the Cyclops
|
| That’s where they put the Cyclops
|
| That’s where they put the Cyclops
|
| What you try to do to me?
|
| What you try to do to me?
|
| You make me happy |