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    It's a Thursday morning, four a.m.
    and you won't let me go
    if tomorrow comes I guess I'll never know
    even in the darkest hour it's the brightest
    time of day
    even when I go to bed I'm still awake

    Eyes held up with toothpicks
    and my jaw is going off
    I will never leave you or
    admit that I was wrong

    There's so many things I'd like to say,
    I'm foaming at the mouth
    maybe I could write,
    my pen is hollowed out
    I've got ideas and inventions
    and I'd use them if I could

    Stop waking up the next day
    when they're all no good

    Please don't say another word
    I know your story well
    conversations take two
    but I'm talking to myself

    Now I need an alibi and everything I did was true
    but every word I said was just a lie

    Cosa ne pensi di "3 Month Weekend" di No Use For A Name?

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