She says you're a masochist for falling for me,--
So roll up your sleeves
And I think that I like her,
'cuz she tells me things I don't want to hear,
Medicinal tongue in my ear
When will it stop? When will it stop?
...
You say that my skin feels like no one else's,
That it's different somehow
But I don't understand, isn't a hand just a hand?
No you don't understand
When will it start? My broken part?*
* Masochist by Ingrid Michaelson
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