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They'll feel it in the back of their throat We know I can't construct a poem 'Cause words like [boys] get bored and run C'est la vie I say "I've got so many better things" ...I've got nothing. You should see me: I smoke myself to sleep. And so I walk the web in search of love But always seem to end up stuck I'm finding flaws in everyone. I've reached the point where all I want Is to sleep around in hopes that I will catch back up We are parallel lines, we're running in circles We're never meant to cross I'm at a loss. You were my tangerine, my pussycat, my trampoline Now all's I get are wincing cheeks and dog problems I signed a lease Thinking my heart belonged at 93rd and Park. Can you hear me? Are you listening? |
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