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Pulp Fiction

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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 me 

doubtful you are the people 
where your anger run your sleep 
fate of those whos feet are slipping 
or to those whos eyes 
or to those whos eyes have seen 

to him the strength belongs 
the weak attempt his arms 
and show me my offence 
so look away from me 
becuase i can hardly see 
im hiding nothing 

doubtful you are the people 
where your anger run your sleep 
fate of those whos feet are slipping 
or to those whos eyes 
or to those whos eyes have seen 

doubtful you are the people 
when your anger run your sleep 
fate of those whos feet are slipping 
or to those whos eyes 
or to those whos eyes have seen