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as you go switching from side to
side because you're filled with hatred ...
when you're lying in your bed.
And your face turns red ...
with your hatred fed from the things
you said. And you wish you were dead ...
because you're separated from a
thing called love. And the stars above ...
and a little white dove sends push
turn to shove to fist to cuffs.
Things really got rough. But
enough's enough!
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