You're hearth is served cold,
You're sights are set in perfect stone,
And when you go, you go alone,
And when you stand, you're on your own,

I wash the streets from your skin
when you come home,
I wash the streets from your skin
when you come home,

We're nothing like friends,
You have no time to lend,
And if you're guilt then I'm the shame,
And if I'm hurt then you're the blame,

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