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lyrics

Oh, I lock myself away
And I'm on the brink
Of learning how to think
Without your words protruding through my skull
With one brief pull
They felt like bullet-wounded birds in flight
With no more chance to fight
Than if my eyes were gouged and my hands bound
It made me sad to think that if I had a gun
I'd shoot them instead

This story's getting old, it's old, it's old
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's all my fault
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept it shut

Oh, a habit I can't kick
And it makes me sick
To think I think too much about such things
Is how your friends perceive or if I'm naive
To not already know what they'll think
So I know it's for the best I lay to rest
These thoughts within my brain that cause me pain
Goodbye, don't cry
But if you don't I'll be wondering why

This story's getting old, it's old, it's old
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's all my fault
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's old, it's old
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's all my fault
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept it shut

credits

from Monkfish Mix​-​Up At Farmers' Market, released September 20, 2020
Lyrics and tune by Seth Corbin.

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Paul Carbuncle Nottingham, UK

You can take the lad out of Pluckley but he'll still sing about hops.

Profile photo by Hugh Miller.

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