| From the manger to the morgue
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| Strangers are born and reborn
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| Giving birth to the wages of sin
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| And claiming it came from within
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| Within me there’s a gaping hole
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| It seems I’m last to know
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| No one, or thing, can fill this empty space
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| That I’ve been pacing in
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| I fell in love with an empty place
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| But I want change
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| But I won’t change
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| I can’t feel a thing
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| The pins and needles sing
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| I can say it
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| But it won’t mean a thing
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| Cause I know you’ll fall for
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| Each and every pretty word I sing, sing
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| I can say it
|
| But it won’t mean a thing
|
| Cause I know you’ll fall for
|
| Each and every pretty word I sing, sing, sing
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| Spirits spin me around once more
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| Sin if you sing the overture
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| That lulls me back to sleep
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| I swear I’m yours to keep
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| Consumed with consuming
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| Soon I’ll swallow people whole
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| I’ll have back what strangers stole
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| If I can’t find my happiness
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| I’ll soon devour yours
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| I’ll sing your weary head to rest
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| With my overture
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| Cause I fell in love with an empty place
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| But I want yours
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| But I want yours
|
| I can say it
|
| But it won’t mean a thing
|
| Cause I know you’ll fall for
|
| Each and every pretty word I sing, sing
|
| I can say it
|
| But it won’t mean a thing
|
| Cause I know you’ll fall for
|
| Each and every pretty word I sing, sing, sing
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| For it I fell
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| (We lose ourselves once more)
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| For it I fell so fast
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| For it I fell
|
| (We lose ourselves once more)
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| For it I fell so hard
|
| For it I fell
|
| (We lose ourselves once more)
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| For it I fell so fast
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| I fell for it, I fell for it
|
| (We lose ourselves once more)
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| You could say it
|
| But it won’t mean a thing
|
| Cause you know I’ll fall for
|
| Each and every pretty word you sing, sing
|
| You could say it
|
| But it won’t mean a thing
|
| Cause you know I’ll fall for
|
| Each and every pretty word you sing, sing, sing |