It's a Thursday morning, four a.m.
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and you won't let me go
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if tomorrow comes I guess I'll never know
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even in the darkest hour it's the brightest
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time of day
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even when I go to bed I'm still awake
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Eyes held up with toothpicks
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and my jaw is going off
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I will never leave you or
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admit that I was wrong
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There's so many things I'd like to say,
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I'm foaming at the mouth
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maybe I could write,
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my pen is hollowed out
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I've got ideas and inventions
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and I'd use them if I could
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Stop waking up the next day
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when they're all no good
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Please don't say another word
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I know your story well
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conversations take two
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but I'm talking to myself
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Now I need an alibi and everything I did was true
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but every word I said was just a lie
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-----------------
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Three Month Weekend
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No Use For A Name |