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trey, do you feel love? |
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do you feel nothing from above? |
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oh oh, trey |
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do you feel pain? |
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or do you feel anything at all? |
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i, well i was born here. i was born earnest, but they call me sincere. |
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i was third in a strange world full of gentlemanly volunteers |
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i was baptized in a trough. well i was found, but i felt lost. |
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i just need a witness and some tenderness. |
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courtesy's still king where |
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ghosts and birds are singing |
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all through the night |
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even on the wrong side of this river |
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that tried to steal my sight |
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but don't lay me in my grave tonight. |
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just leave me with some hope and some candlelight. |
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shanghaied by a greyhound dealer, who told me he would give me shelter. |
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he said it's true that jesus loves his sinners, but in the end it never really matters, |
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because he falls in love the same way as us, |
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and if you think he feels no pain, well, just wait til his heart breaks. |
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i washed ashore late at night. |
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well i was cursed, but i felt fine. |
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the lights of the city burned like candlelights, |
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so i ran with thieves. my friends were rogues and slippery eels. |
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how i tried to find the pill |
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to help me feel the way that you feel. |
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oh, shiny new with Indian blood, |
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oh it's coursing through my veins and straight to my head. |
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dressed in rags, I was dodging daggers, |
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the queens in drag, and the doorman's swagger. |
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I was stoned out in the avenues, but I still found my way back to you, |
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where nothing in this world really matters |
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except the sound of my own heart's patter. |