Your hope in shreds
tattered and split
in the paper bin
your the silent alarm clock
the call that never came
your the wasp on my neck
clinging on for anything you can get
it's the niggling pain
that keeps me sane
if I feel it I'm alive
and die without it
Do you think I mean't all those sentimental things?
Do you think I mean all these sentimental things?
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