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There are maybe ten or twelve
Things I could teach you
After that, well, I think you're on your own
And that wasn't the opening line
It was the tenth or the twelfth
Make of that what you will

Make of that what you will

Once there was a haunted loop
Of your deep, fallen tears
A forehead resting on a record shelf
Amid moving boxes stacked
I'm still waiting for the right words
Make of that what you will

Make of that what you will

And the eyes they were
A color I can't remember
Which says more than the first two verses
And it is the devil you know
That will slam the door harder
Make of that what you will

Make of that what you will
Make of that what you will
Make of that what you will
There are maybe ten or twelve   Things I could teach you   After that, well, I think you're on your own   And that wasn't the opening line   It was the tenth or the twelfth   Make of that what you will      Make of that what you will      Once there was a haunted loop   Of your deep, fallen tears   A forehead resting on a record shelf   Amid moving boxes stacked   I'm still waiting for the right words   Make of that what you will      Make of that what you will      And the eyes they were   A color I can't remember   Which says more than the first two verses   And it is the devil you know   That will slam the door harder   Make of that what you will      Make of that what you will   Make of that what you will   Make of that what you will