| I had thought it was the beginning of sullen adolescence
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| But I think it was this other thing
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| A more mature understanding of what he can never have
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| If we must love without the lights on
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| Why do I hang on every word?
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| And if it’s not, if it’s not some kind of symmetry
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| Why are the lines so blurred?
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| So if you’re gonna use me
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| Then use me up
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| If we are only for the moment
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| Why do we talk about our dreams?
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| And if it’s not, if it’s not some kind of poetry
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| Why do I wonder what it means?
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| So if you’re gonna use me
|
| Then use me up
|
| So if you’re gonna use me
|
| Then use me up
|
| We won’t call this love
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| There is no warmth around the edges
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| Around the edges of the pain
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| We wear this down until it’s nothin'
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| And I will see you there again
|
| So if you’re gonna use me
|
| Then use me up
|
| So if you’re gonna use me
|
| Then use me up
|
| We won’t call this love
|
| So if you’re gonna use me
|
| Then use me up
|
| So if you’re gonna use me
|
| Then use me up
|
| We won’t call this love |