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So I sit on the floor And now I've come to that fateful day, I might not feel pain even if I should. Even if I should. If I should. 'Cause everyone said it would be broken some day. With my head in my hands. And don't tell me how to make it pay, I write a new song every day. I think my heart must be made of clay, I just wish I was made of wood, |
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You might not seem glad, I swear to God I just wish I was made of wood, Even if you should, even if you should. And if you could have believed in me, The sweetest smile that ever did I'd keep the doors locked all the time. I'd have made damn sure. Our hearts were warm, and glad with wine. Melt the pats in the butter dish, |
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So I sit on the floor With my head in my hands. Seems like I have come to that fateful day, I think my heart must be made of clay, If you should. If you should. If I should. If I should. If you should. 'Cause everyone said it would be broken some day. With my head in my hands. If I should. If I should. |
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