Quick kid quick, so harsh and cynical
Touches stricken, cold and clinical
What a transformation to behold
But I don't like this new, I want the old
It's not the words that make it final
You've said such things such things before to rival them
But it's how you say 'em now that's changed
Cold but sympathetic all the same
Lie to convince me that I'll be better off
Oh, you go on and I'll be happier, I'll be happier
You go on, yeah, you go on
You'll be gone and I'll be happier
Shoot me with your rubber bullets
Your finger's on the trigger, pull it
I know you want this suffering to end
So it is forgivable my friend...
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