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Shouldering the blame Walking into frame Like a lighted silhouette Against a cotton sheet Smothering the crease Tin can in hand Waiting for god to come around But he never comes around He never comes around Quiet like a mouse Building up your house Just to tear it down Leaving us the pieces Do they ever fit? Tin can in hand Waiting for god to come around But he never comes around He never comes around He never comes around |
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