Is that a strain Or a delicate smile Built to proportion? It might as well have been you And all the things you do Somedays I'm waiting For my pulse to calm down Into the low hundreds I shake the shirt loose off my back Day and night, year in year out I discovered my sweet dreams Of corruption deep inside myself I should have stood in carny Or end up preserved upon your shelf Day and night, year in year out Will you ever understand That I'm only an object Day and night year in year out I'm just trying to be the subject Where others see the abstract I only see the truth And that has always been To repeat my youth
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