…and where am I now? I’m in the glasshouse again and where are you? you’re home and dry open the window and breathe in that gloom it’s that kind of night in that kind of room don’t touch me now you’ll catch something cruel I love you some I hate you too but you didn’t bring me down I did that to myself you drink like a thief one eye on the door I should have seen you coming I’d have spit in your eye coz nobody loves a snitch or trusts a fucking liar…
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