Mock-Up

Lyrics
Secondary, secondary self for myself A devil doll, a close call, somebody else And your luck, your love, your luck You're just a wicked friend and it's time that you're finding out Are you scared that i'm dying, under voodoo spells? Start believing in hell Secondary, secondary self for myself A sick part, a dead heart, somebody else And you wanna get well on your own But truth to tell, you've been shot to hell You're all broken bones All I ever, all I All your fainting spells Hearing things that I'll never tell anybody else I'm not shooting, I'm not shooting, I'm not playing I'm here waiting, oh anybody! Well I guess, well I guess I'm not playing Melodrama, it's just me It's just me, it's just me It's your luck, your love Your luck, your love Your luck, your love Your luck, your love
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Credits
- Writers
- Elliott Smith