Nutshell (Unplugged)

We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight, and yet I fight this battle all alone
No one to cry to, no place to call home

Oooh... Oooh...
Oooh... Oooh...

My gift of self is raped
My privacy is raked
And yet I find, and yet I find repeating in my head
If I can't be my own, I'd feel better dead

Oooh... Oooh...

Oooh... Oooh...