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You know I cannot stand your love for alcohol You're such a tall man but you're looking kind of small I'll send you movie stills to rid you of your ills Because you're ill Now you're finding out I'm hard to please You'd better watch your mouth you'll bring a girl close to tears I ripped up my lyric book, gave myself the blackest look Black looks You would think by now I wouldn't miss this place It makes my poor legs weak and my sweet heart start to race To race, yeah to race From Letras Mania