| Never have I seen two filthier jackals
|
| Circling around the corpse not that it matters now
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| Stretching the coat as they try for size
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| Claiming the boots that once were mine
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| I don’t know
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| When I’ve had enough
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| I don’t know
|
| When I’ve had enough
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| The devil’s in the detail, the devil’s in the cup
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| I’ve never looked around that much
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| Bouncing off the rocks the sound of cackles
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| The only thing left not meant for jackals
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| And I don’t know
|
| When I’ve had enough
|
| I don’t know
|
| When I’ve had enough
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| I loved you but I can’t read your mind
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| I can’t read your mind, ooh
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| I loved you but I can’t read your mind
|
| I can’t read your mind, ooh
|
| Never have I seen two filthier jackals
|
| Picking apart everything that once mattered now
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| Tipping the rim of their new hat
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| As they march down to my hometown
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| And I don’t know
|
| When I’ve had enough
|
| I don’t know
|
| When I’ve had enough
|
| I loved you but I can’t read your mind
|
| I can’t read your mind, ooh
|
| I loved you but I can’t read your mind
|
| I can’t read your mind, ooh |