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A harder background, hard to find I don't give a little mind Swallow your pride, swallow your pills In your house up in the hills Leave your husband, leave your wife Keep on running your whole life Sweep your dirt under the rug Fix your hurt with a little love From the cradle to the grave You will always be a slave To the quiet darkness Of your memories And that's the truth, my friend The ugly truth, my friend I got proof, my friend And that's the truth Keep your secrets to yourself Keep your paperbacks up on a shelf Burn the bridges, burn your friends Blow them kisses and make amends Stake the high road but take the low No one but you and God will ever know You might play it off, win or lose Either way, love, you'll get the blues From the cradle to the grave You will always be a slave To the quiet darkness Of your memories And that's the truth, my friend The ugly truth, my friend I got proof, my friend And that's the truth I got proof, my friend And that's the truth