| I know that you’re an artist,
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| you’re the hardest one to deal with.
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| Everything that you conceal
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| is revealed on your canvas.
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| You find all of your ugly meanings
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| in the things I find beautiful.
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| Do you see the fall is coming?
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| Come, I’m falling into you.
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| You perceive all of these things
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| I’d never have known.
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| Love, will you turn off the lights?
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| 'cause we’re already home.
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| You painted me in pastel,
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| colors that don’t tell of any boldness.
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| That’s the way you’d love to see me:
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| so delicate, so weak, so little purpose.
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| But your eyes are drawn of charcoal
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| they’re black, they’re so cold, they’re so imperfect.
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| Because they see a sleeping world,
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| where waking isn’t worth it.
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| You perceive all of these things
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| I’d never have known.
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| Love, will you turn off the lights?
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| 'cause we’re already home.
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| how, how, can you live without your lies.
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| oh, oh, love I’ve had enough of you tonight.
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| all of these things I’d never have known, oh.
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| love will you turn out the lights 'cause we’re already home, oh.
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| You perceive all of these things
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| I’d never have known, oh.
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| love will you turn out the lights,'cause we’re already home, home. |