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There's no use to complain |
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Or start it off again |
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There's no sign of weakness in me |
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Do I compel you like you compel me? |
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And nothing stays the same |
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And no one said it would |
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I would not think of such things if I could... |
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If I could help myself, |
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If I could |
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So put your warm little hands where I can see them |
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Put those hands on my face |
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Tell me you love me |
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And no one else |
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Or close those little hands |
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Now they're fists |
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Now they're little fists |
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Punch a hole in me with those fists |
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If you ever wanted to punch a hole in me |
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And find out what's in me |
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There's really nothing in me |
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And nothing stays the same |
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And nothing ever happens to you that will happen to you again |
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Or is this the way it was? |
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Was it this same room, this same fight, this same scene? |
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With us dancing on the kitchen floor |
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And the wind climbing in through the open window |
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I used to hear distant cracks out in the city night |
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I could swear some one was being shot down |
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Now we hear that all the time... |
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So do you like where we're headed? |
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Does it make sense in your eyes? |
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Do you miss me, baby, when I fall asleep? |
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Do you reach out for my arm? |
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Do you find it's too far away? |
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Do you? |
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Now tell me I'm handsome |
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I will tell you we are really not old at all |
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There's no use to complain |
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Still you and no one else |
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So put your warm little hands where I can see them |
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Put those hands on my face |
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Now if you get any out of this |
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Then that's the thing that makes me sleep all day |
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And I'll explain my love for you |
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On another day |