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I can dish it out but you know |
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I can't take it |
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When you told me every time |
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That you came that you were faking |
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So I guess |
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I'll never know |
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If I was mackin, yes or no |
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Got a seven foot cut on my foot the day before |
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When you pulled out my glass heart |
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And broke it on the floor |
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I guess I'm gonna go |
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To the house of broken hearts and bloody toes |
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It hurts to think about |
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I got no doubt - |
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I figured out |
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My little head is so shot without you |
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My little head can't hold the thoughts |
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You put inside my mind when you walked out |
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Just a little scratch but it feels like it did |
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When you've fallen off the short bus |
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And landed on your head |
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I felt a little low |
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When you told me where to go |
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Right straight down to hell |
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Cramping up your style |
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But your style ain't cramping me |
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But what you gonna do |
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When you're sleeping with the enemy? |
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I'm always at your show, in the very back row |
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It hurts to think about |
|
I got no doubt - |
|
I figured out |
|
My little head is so shot without you |
|
My little head can't hold the thoughts |
|
You put inside my mind when you walked out |
|
My little head is so shot without you |
|
My little head can't hold the thoughts |
|
You put inside my mind when you walked out |
|
My little head is so shot without you |
|
My little head can't hold the thoughts |
|
You put inside my mind when you walked out |
|
My little head is so shot without you |
|
My little head can't hold the thoughts |
|
You put inside my mind when you walked out |