| Sometimes you can’t tell fact from fiction
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| Lies from glory, contradictions
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| Running through everything
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| It never seems to make much sense
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| The way you keep me in suspense
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| And you deliver exactly nothing
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| I’ve often thought when faced with you
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| It’s gonna take some strong voodoo
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| To wipe the slate clean, all dirts plead
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| But the sincerity you fear
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| Just makes you much harder to hear
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| Than a butterfly in an air raid
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| And my fickle resolve will be
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| The death of me one day I’m sure
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| You can’t suppress if you adore
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| They’ll always keep you wanting more
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| You see my problem? |
| Well, it’s yours, too
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| I’ve often punched above my weight
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| And wound up feeling less than great
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| When live incanted a promise
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| If feeling like a rubber band
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| When all of the elastic’s dead is normal
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| Well I’m a loose man
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| But sticking to the points I’ve made
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| Can sometimes seem so dull and staid and formal
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| A moose stam
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| And my fickle resolve will be
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| The death of me one day I’m sure
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| My fickle resolve
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| My fickle resolve
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| My fickle resolve
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| My fickle resolve |