Cifra Club

Shut Up

Honest Bob And The Factory-to-dealer Incentives

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My mouth is filled with cotton
And my brain is filled with fuzz
I'd tell you what I'm thinking
If I just knew what it was

But when I try to tell you what I think, it always sounds so lame
And I don't know what to tell you once I've gotten past your name
Oh Veronica, Veronica, I hope you feel the same

I'm sick of metaphors
I love you, okay?
I'm not asking anything
I don't want an answer

I don't trust words any more
They come and go so fast
I hear them in the present
But you said them in the past

And I don't know what to say to make my feelings understood
And I'm not sure that I'd want to tell you even if I could
But I smile at you and you smile back at me and I feel good

I'm sick of metaphors
I love you, okay?
I'm not asking anything
I don't want an answer

I can't stand similes
I love you, okay?
I'm not asking anything
I don't want an answer
I don't need an answer
Don't you dare give an answer

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