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Wire
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Point of Collapse
They're checking for traps for one of the chaps In the backroom, Jimmy's counting the stamps Death in the living room, his favourite sport
A happy end The point of collapse
There's no space in my car, all my papers are false What am I doing? You're carrying a bag
In a free climbing, two-timing Three legged waltz
Can I leave a message? But don't use my voice Don't trust a man, don't give him the choice Of removing his jacket when he says he's one of the boys
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