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You don’t remember my name, I don’t really care. Can we play the game your way? Can I really lose control? Just once in my life, I think it’d be nice just to lose control, just once.. with all the pretty flowers in the dust. Mary had a lamb, his eyes black as coals. If we play very quiet, my lamb, Mary never has to know. Just once in my life, I think it’d be nice just to lose control, just once. If I cut you down to a thing I can use, I fear there’ll be nothing good left of you.