| A hint of insecurity
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| An untouched insecurity
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| A tragic hero’s flaw and what it brings
|
| And you know as you sleep
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| How glad you would feel
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| Not to feel anything… just sleep
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| Got too many things on my mind
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| To talk of one at any one time
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| And I cannot escape this strange disarray
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| And I make my way to places
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| Where there’s no conversation
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| And you talk of vices, you think you’re in the clear
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| You don’t know the costumes that they wear
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| Mine’s writing; |
| yours is fighting your nature
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| And you don’t know the ins and outs of desire
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| You don’t know what makes a person tire
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| Which vice will make them love and which will hate you
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| I see the chain and where it bites
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| In all the things that might turn out
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| At level best we’ll just survive
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| And the lame dog crawls away
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| The chained dog waits for light to break
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| And the question to disobey
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| Goes down in your boots and there it stays
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| And there’s blame on your side; |
| blame on mine
|
| And there’s too many things to talk of at any one time
|
| And you talk of vices, you think you’re in the clear
|
| You don’t know the costumes that they wear
|
| Mine’s writing; |
| yours is fighting your nature
|
| And you don’t know the ins and outs of desire
|
| You don’t know what makes a person tire
|
| Which vice will make them love and which will hate you |