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(Lyrics by Ben Howland)
trying to be something that you’re not,
you always let them down so hard.
the expectation is at eight;
you’re at three, there are no ten’s
spin the web, tell the seventh lie,
it all blurs, you’ve said too much,
they want to see the shine in you:
escape again, no need to make amends.
it’s fine
part of the game
it’s not who needs it’s just who wants
that gets the name
it’s fine
part of the game
you’re meant to find a way to play
and hide the pain.
your path is crooked in the sand,
unseen, if not, another man.
no idea what’s next in line.
like it matters any more.
no patience when it’s playback time;
unthinkable, expected play.
shed that skin, find the next,
reborn, the same old smile.
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