| I got several skins in me closet
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| None of which is the same
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| I got several identities to be unfolded
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| Who am I today?
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| The beggar, the priest
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| The thief, or the fog
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| The garbage on the street now
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| Or the scum
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| I could be behind you with a knife
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| I could be there to take your life
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| I said, skins
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| It’s like identity
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| Skins…
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| Now, I been getting up just around seven
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| I look at what I have, and if I’m going to Heaven
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| But I been so bad, I don’t know what good is
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| I been living so low, I feel just like a fool
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| I got several skins in me closet
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| None of which, now, is the same
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| The beggar, the priest
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| The thief, or the fog
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| I said, who am I today?
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| Skins…
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| All these identities
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| What identity do you have?
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| I look in the mirror, and what do I see?
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| I see eyes that lie unto thee
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| It’s sad that I laugh, and I know that I’m wrong
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| 'Cause I’m twisting around in my own
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| Closet of skins
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| Identity hangs
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| The thief or the fog
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| The priest or the scum
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| Am I standing behind you with a knife?
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| Do I make you fear for your life?
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| Skins in our closet
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| Who are we today?
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| I said, skins…
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| Skins at the party
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| In which we talk away
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| Light lies in this darkness
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| At the party where we were inside the day
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| I said, now, who are you and me today?
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| The clothes you wear could be your just undoings
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| It could show someone else what you’re not meant to be doing
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| It could be a lie in which you’re living
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| Look in the mirror… what is your giving?
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| Giving what?
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| Identity!
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| Skins!
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| Identity!
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| Skins!
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| Skins…
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| I have several skins in me closet
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| I had about twenty myths
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| I look at my face, I see the disgrace
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| Of a man who doesn’t know where to begin
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| Because, skins…
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| All I think about… identity
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| The priest or the fog
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| The garbage or the scum
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| I could be holding a knife
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| Do you fear for your life?
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| Skins…
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| But now I say, «No more, no more, no more identity…
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| No more closet of skins.»
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| I said, «No more skins in me closet--
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| I’m gonna be me today.» |