The Tease

Gone, the thrill is gone
God, guess I'll make it a song

Spent so many years just waiting
For love to come around
But now that it came looking for me
I'm nowhere to be found

Sick of writing songs about you
Poison spreading through the well
Late nights thinking about calling
Stare at the bars of my cell

Gone, the thrill is gone
God, guess I'll make it a song

I wish that I could fix this baby
I wish I knew the trick
You treat me like a well loved dog
But collars make me sick

Sick of writing songs about you
Poison spreading through the well
Late nights thinking about calling
Stare at the bars of my cell

Sick of writing songs about you
Poison spreading through the well
Late nights thinking about calling
Stare at the bars of my cell



Credits
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