| The tiny slip at midnight
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| A little sip at noon
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| You’re tired and torn, approaching dawn
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| My penitent buffoon
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| Wouldn’t you think I’d know by now?
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| I shouldn’t have entertained it
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| Couldn’t you keep that to yourself?
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| You cried for my forgiveness
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| You say it sets you free
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| You summon, dear, the shameful tears
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| That spill all over me
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| Wouldn’t you think I’d know by now?
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| I shouldn’t have entertained it
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| Couldn’t you keep that to yourself?
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| The penny rides at evening tide
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| The vain requests
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| The blush of the night
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| And the blooming bush
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| Where you failed every test
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| What should I believe of you?
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| What should I forget?
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| Am I innocent yet?
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| Is it the wife you would have beaten?
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| Is it the child you couldn’t bear?
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| I fear you have mistaken me
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| For somebody who cares
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| The sophisticated victim
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| That you skillfully request
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| You can hide behind your wishes
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| You can hide behind despair
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| And all the wretched syndromes
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| That carry away the blame
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| Couldn’t you keep you keep that to yourself?
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| And wouldn’t you, shouldn’t you, couldn’t you
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| Keep that to yourself? |