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| Come one and all and see the broken man, talking to himself He sits and waits for something better, he'll never find it here The people touch his hair and pinch his cheek; he can't even feel it There it goes again, he's listening to someone Why------ does any of it matter? (I can't take it anymore) He wipes his hands on anything in reach, he never feels clean There it goes again, I can hear it louder Why------ does any of it matter? (I can't take it anymore) Now I know I disappear! | |
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