| I’ve got a message for you
|
| But wonder what’s the chance it ever gets through
|
| You’ve got bad habits as bad as your skin
|
| Don’t you suffer from the shape that I’m in
|
| Well, I’m sure that it thrills you when you pull my strings
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| Like a puppet, but I can think for myself
|
| And I’m not so sure about you
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| But whatever, blah blah blah, I guess it’s all the same to you
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| You spent a lifetime just calling on me
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| No guts, no hunger for originality
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| I’m something you only imagine to be
|
| Your dirty shame has you to blame
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| For your fucked up personality
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| Maybe I’m just very paranoid
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| But you’re probably someone that I should avoid
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| You think you leave your mark on society
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| But honey, your wold looks like a fashion magazine
|
| Please pardon me for being candid
|
| But what exactly is bugging you and what’s bugging me
|
| From the very start of it, our love was sick and volatile
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| Now there’s nothing left of me I’m just uptight and hostile
|
| I want you to understand
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| That I don’t wanna hold your hand
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| Through every little step you take
|
| We’re all allowed to make mistakes
|
| But you have made a few or more
|
| And when I look at you
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| Reflected in your eyes
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| Your ordinary sadness lookings back at me
|
| I’ve got a message for you
|
| But wonder what’s the chance it ever gets through
|
| You’ve got bad habits as bad as your skin
|
| Don’t you suffer from the shape that I’m in
|
| You spent a lifetime just calling on me
|
| No guts, no hunger for originality
|
| I’m something you only imagine to be
|
| I’m gonna rid of your stupidity
|
| I’m sick of you, I’m sure
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| You’re just as sick of me
|
| I’m sick of it all, so sick, oh
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| I’m sick of it all, so sick |