It¡¯s hard to say what¡¯s real these days
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My mind can be a dangerous place
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She¡¯s too naive for suicide
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But god I wish that bitch would die
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Give me, give me, give me, give me a reason
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Why every night I¡¯m losing sleep
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God damn she¡¯s on to me again
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Or maybe I had too much to drink
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You see I think I figured out
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I figured out as I was thinking
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How to stop her piercing voice
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From everything that she was stealing
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Get the gun, get the gun, get the gun
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Is all I¡¯m hearing again and again you know
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I used to be such a hopeless man
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And she used to be such a sweet, sweet thing
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She¡¯s too naive for suicide
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But god I wish that bitch would die
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Shot gun shells, yeah it¡¯s alright
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The whiskey says, ¡°Let¡¯s take her fuckin¡¯ life.¡±
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One thing I do remember
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Is that things never get better
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And I got to make the voices, make the voices for the maker
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Of the maker making voices, making voices
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Gotta make her, gotta, gotta make her stop
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Before my head comes caving in again
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You can walk this world all alone
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But I can still hear her, tearing me apart
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-----------------
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Caving In
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Bullets And Octane |