| Broken bottles under the sink
|
| I’m kissing babies with wedding rings
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| Elaboration makes me think
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| Of broken bottles under the sink
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| Dear God, can I cut in line?
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| Dear God, am I wasting my time?
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| Broken bottles under the skin
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| The irritation pushes the pin
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| I can’t afford to keep it thin
|
| The broken bottles under the skin
|
| Dear God, can I cut in line?
|
| Dear God, am I wasting my time?
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| All broken bottles behind the scene
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| I’m filling your head with kerosene
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| Intoxicated on self esteem
|
| All broken bottles behind the scenes
|
| And now we’re breathing in a policy
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| Keep getting bludgeoned by the policy
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| Our poor little broken policy
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| Now why the hell is this all happening?
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| Dear God, can I cut in line?
|
| Dear God, am I wasting my time?
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| Can we hold on to me
|
| 'Cause everything is sinking in denial
|
| While my teeth keep on chattering
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| How can you leave
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| When the blood’s up to my knees
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| And the doors of cement
|
| It’s never ending
|
| I don’t want to relive this
|
| I don’t want to relive it
|
| I don’t want to relive this
|
| I don’t want to relive it
|
| I don’t want to relive this
|
| I don’t want to relive it |