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On a string...
On a string... On a string, I was held. The way I move, can you tell? My actions are orchestrated from above. So I swing and I sway. Wave my hand, kick my leg, And it is always right with the music. "Until all that swaying starts to make you sick..." For a song I was bought, Now I lie when I talk With a careful eye on the cue card. Onto a stage I was pushed, With my sorrow well rehearsed. So give me all your pity and your money, now (all of it) "We used to think that sound was something pure..." If I could act like This was my real life, And not some cage where I've been placed, Well then, I could tell you The truth like I used to And not be afraid of sounding fake. Now all anyone's listening for are the mistakes! (Ah, I'm sorry!) (Oh, it's okay, it's okay) 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3! In a house by myself, I hear the ice start to melt, And I'll watch rooftops weep for the sunlight. And I know what must change, Fuck my face. Fuck my name, They are brief and false advertisements... ...For a soul I don't have. Something true I have lacked And spent my whole life trying to make up for. But I found in a song And in the people I love, They will lift me up out of darkness. And now my door, it stands open, I'm inviting everyone in. We're gonna laugh, We're gonna drink until the morning comes. That's what we're gonna to do... Come on!! Come on!! |
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I wish I could eat the salt off of your lost faded lips we can cap the old times make playing only logical harm we can cap the old lines clay-making that nothing else will change well she can read she can read she can read she can read she's bad she can read she can read she can read she's bad oh she's bad but it’s different now that I’m poor and ageing I’ll never see this face again you'll go stabbing yourself in the neck we could find new ways of living make playing only logical harm we could top the old times clay-making and nothing else will change but she can read she can read she can read she can read she's bad she can read she can read she can read she's bad oh she's bad it's different now that I’m poor and ageing I’ll never see this place againyou'll go stabbing yourself in the neck but it's different now that I’m poor and ageing I’ll never see this place again you'll go stabbing yourself in the neck it's in the way that she poses it's in the things that she puts in my hair her stories are boring and stuff she’s always calling my bluff she puts the she puts the weights into my little heart and she gets in my room and she takes it apart she puts the weights into my little heart I say she puts the weights into my little heart she packs it away it’s in the way that she was her heaven is never enough she puts the weights in my heart she puts the she puts the weights into my little heart |
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