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Pulp Fiction

Laying on the floor, I've been here once before

And I'm not proud of it

Misery comes today, it's coming back my way

And I want it to leave meDoubtful, you are the people

Where your anger run your sleep

Fate of those who's feet are slipping

Or to those, who's eyes or to those

Who's eyes have seenTo him the strength belongs, the weak attempt his arms

And show me my offense

So look away from me because I can hardly see

I'm hiding nothingDoubtful, you are the people

Where your anger run your sleep

Fate of those who's feet are slipping

Or to those, who's eyes or to those

Who's eyes have seenDoubtful, you are the people

Where your anger run your sleep

Fate of those who's feet are slipping

Or to those who's eyes or to those

Who's eyes have seen

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