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Clean

Incubus

Today, everything was fine. Until roundabout, quarter to nine, I suddenly
found myself in a bind. Was it something I said? Something I read and
manifested that's getting you down. Don't you dare come to bed with that
ambiguous look in you eye, I'd sooner sleep by an open fire and wake up
fried. Say what you will, say what you mean. You could never offend, your
dirty words come out clean. Tomorrow, what price will I pay? Could I make
it all up to you by serving coffee for two in bed? Would you then gimme
the time of day? I need a map of your head, translated into English so I
can learn to not make you frown. You'd feel better if you'd vent, put your
frustrations into four letter words and let them out on mine, the most
weathered ears in town. Say what you will, say what you mean. You could
never offend, your dirty words come out clean.

Composição: Jose Anthony Ii Pasillas, Brandon Charles Boyd, Alex Katunich, Christopher E Kilmore, Michael Aaron Einziger





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