Well, I know you find it hard to smile,
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To keep your happiness in style
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You pass in silence in the mornin'
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You know you shouldn't ever try to ignore me.
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And you look to be pretty nervous
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Sweaty hands and blood shot eyes.
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So hard to identify you,
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Just a loser in a loser's disguise.
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She don't back down,
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And she won't come around here
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Now there's all this talk about dying
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Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
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With your fingernails painted red
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And your eyes all ready to wed
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Decorated from head to toe
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Like a magician in a talent show.
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She don't back down,
|
And she don't come around here.
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An' there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
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So you've smoked your last cigarette
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Burned coldly on a train from Tibet
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And broke your last bottle of wine
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And unraveled your last ball of twine.
|
|
Well, she don't back down,
|
She don't come around here
|
Now there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
She don't back down,
|
She don't come around here
|
Now there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
Well, I know you find it hard to smile
|
To keep your happiness in style
|
You pass in silence in the mornin'
|
You know you don't usually ignore me.
|
|
Now there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well, I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
-----------------
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For The Life Of Me
|
The Wallflowers |