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From One To Six Hundred Kilometers (Dillon)

The most tender thing you've said to me Is that I suffer from paranoia Sometimes, when I wish to kill I count from one to six hundred kilometres Yet I fail to feel I sail to sea I fail to behave rationally And I fail to grip I fail to keep I fail to think about me If I were able to hate Perhaps hatred would bring me relief I ought to have a steel brow And heart of stone Yet you failed to feel You sailed to sea You failed embrace my insecurities And I failed to grip I failed to keep I failed to think about me I failed to think about me Yeah Me-yeah Yet I fail to feel I sail to sea I fail to behave rationally And you fail to grip You fail to keep You fail to think about me