| Oh aint it lonely
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| When youre livin with a gun
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| Well you cant slow down and you cant turn round
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| And you cant trust anyone
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| You just sit there like a butterfly
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| And youre all encased in glass
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| Youre so fragile you just may break
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| And you dont know who to ask
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| Oh aint it lonely
|
| When youre livin with a gun
|
| Well you cant slow down and you cant turn round
|
| And you cant trust anyone
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| You just sit there like a butterfly
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| Youre well protected by the glass
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| Youre such a rare collectors item
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| When they throw away whats the trash
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| You can hang suspended from a star
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| Or wish on a toilet roll
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| You can just soak up the atmosphere
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| Like a fish inside a bowl
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| When the ghost comes round at midnight
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| Well you both can have some fun
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| He can drive you mad, he can make you sad
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| He can keep you from the sun
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| When they take him down, hell be both safe and sound
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| And the hand does fit the glove
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| And no matter what they tell you,
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| Theres good and evil in everyone |