I'd rest on my laurels
|
let some keen wit
|
and crying awful pity sustain me
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But my memories leak like a sieve
|
And fuel this fire
|
It's deep and heavy roar defies me
|
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Let's not talk in vain about the weather
|
Let's take my tired soul off of it's tether
|
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Poor me
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Poor me
|
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I can't reach the ends of this
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But if I didn't
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It would be the end of me
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I need to feen infatuation
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Stoke the coals
|
of curiosity and longing
|
|
Let's not talk in vain about the weather
|
Let's take my tired soul of it's tether
|
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I need the glory
|
with lights aglow around me
|
My halo shining brightly
|
in tribute to myself
|
No, I can't have pity on me
|
So tell me another story
|
And I'll accept gladly
|
and thank you for the help
|
|
Poor me, Poor me
|
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-----------------
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Poor Me
|
Swingin' Utters |