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Tytuł: Limp

  • Wykonawca: Fiona Apple
  • Wy¶wietleń: 591
You wanna make me sick;
  You wanna lick my wounds,
  Don't you, baby?
  You want the badge of honor when you save my hide
  But you're the one in the way
  Of the day of doom, baby
  If you need my shame to reclaim your pride
  And when I think of it, my fingers turn to fists
  I never did anything to you, man
  But no matter what I try
  You'll beat me with your bitter lies
  So call me crazy, hold me down
  Make me cry; got off now, baby-
  It wont be long till you'll be
  Lying limp in your own hand
  You feed the beast I have within me
  You wave the red flag, baby you make it run run run
  Standing on the sidelines, waving and grinning
  You fondle my trigger, then you blame my gun
  And whne I think of it, my fingers turn to fists
  I never did anything to you, man
  But no matter what I try
  You'll beat me with your bitter lies
  So call me crazy, hold me down
  Make me cry; get off now, baby-
  It wont be long till you'll be
  Lying limp in your own hand