| Intuition, it’s what you call it
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| You set it up, cut the rope and walk away
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| I’m left with just my buddy sin
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| I’ve got a mind to let you in
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| And sell my soul to keep another day
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| Your’e the drink, you’re the drug
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| You’re the bug that’s alive inside me
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| The nighthawks sing outside the window
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| And I feel you watching me with different eyes
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| We’re living in the shadows
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| You’re talking to the skies
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| But you’re miles away from home
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| Your’e the drink, you’re the drug
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| You’re the bug that’s alive inside me
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| Intuition, you never miss it
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| It fills your empty veins with every beat
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| Long division, taking it piece by piece
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| Another grave beneath your feet
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| Your’e the drink, you’re the drug
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| You’re the bug that’s alive inside me |