There’s a hundred thousand people at my finger tips, and all their little stories, they’re fucking with my head. Cause it feels good when I cry. I think I love to pitch a bitch. Well they pay me for my time so I’ll stay and deal with a hundred thousand people screaming in my shed. They’re bleeding and they’re gory, they’re shitting in my bed. Cause it feels good when I lie. I think I love to hit and miss. Can you save me from what’s mine? Can you stay with me and a hundred thousand people getting in my bed.
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