| Well, I’d like to be hit by a truck
|
| Because at least it would prove
|
| That I’m not made of steel
|
| And I’d like to go out and kill
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| 'Cause then I would know
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| That I’m not a saint
|
| But I don’t want to be in love
|
| Because it’s something I’ve done before
|
| Yeah, not in love
|
| No, I’m not in love anymore
|
| Anymore
|
| And I’d like to go out of my mind
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| Just to see what it’s like
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| To really lose control
|
| And, hey, what’s it like to piss blood?
|
| Don’t really know
|
| I’ll bet it’s quite a sight
|
| But I don’t want to be in love
|
| Because it’s something I’ve done before
|
| Yeah, not in love
|
| No, I’m not in love anymore
|
| Anymore
|
| And I’d like for one day to be a whore
|
| 'Cause we’ve all got our price
|
| And hey, I’d like to know mine
|
| And I’d like to get followed by a private eye
|
| But then he could prove that I’m not for real
|
| But I don’t want to be in love
|
| Because it’s something I’ve done before
|
| Yeah, not in love
|
| No, I’m not in love anymore
|
| Anymore |