| Here’s to the sour notes, the one’s that didn’t take hold.
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| A useless attempt to connect, a tuneless love song.
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| Blinded by faith, fooled by lust, too wild to love,
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| too jagged to touch, serenading in the dark to no one. |
| Serenading in the dark
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| to no one.
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| Here’s to the longing days, the panic on parade.
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| The first, the last, the in-between: It’s all just a bad dream.
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| But then there’s nothing as sweet as the touching of teeth,
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| the shedding of clean clothes on warm sheets.
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| Blinded by faith, fooled by lust, too wild to love,
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| too jagged to touch, serenading in the dark to no one.
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| Swindled by love, deceived by trust,
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| too painful to feel, too young to corrupt.
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| Serenading in the dark to no one, serenading in the dark to no one with only
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| the sound
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| to hold.
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| But then the silence catches But then the silence catches up. |