| My balls are coals in the bottom of our bed
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| That sags with the ash of our passion spent
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| I kicked the coals to see if they’re still lit
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| Oh how much more can I take of this?
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| I don’t know how much more I can take of this
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| You get undressed and I watch the show
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| You lie beside me but I stay cool
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| Then the next morning again we go
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| You dress for work and I watch that too
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| I don’t know how much more I can take of this
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| I know this tunnel will end with light
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| But I can’t see it, I can’t see it
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| Must be a reason to stay polite
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| But I can’t see it, I can’t see it
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| I keep the fire alive in the night
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| I’m sick of sleeping in body ash
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| Our bed is heaping with body ash
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| I’m sick of sleeping in body ash
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| Our bed is heaping with body ash
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| We go for coffee and comfy chairs
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| Your pen is to your lips but I don’t stare
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| You lean over the table and between your hair
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| I can’t pretend that I don’t see what’s there
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| Sure sure I’m a gentleman but this just ain’t fair |