| They called it faith
|
| They called it fair
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| They called it resolution
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| I call it shit when we were alone
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| They simply paid no mind
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| You’d suffered such a crime
|
| Then there you were
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| A mother way too soon
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| They said you’d made your bed
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| Then they filled your head
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| With the sound
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| The bells of a cathedral
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| You say you’re still ashamed
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| And I with that I could make it stop
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| Like salt thrown over shoulder
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| A coin tossed in a fountain
|
| Not unlike a knock on wood
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| You said only in as much
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| As you were sensitive to touch
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| Did you feel like a human when they spoke?
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| And so you hid your life
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| All bottled up inside
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| Just enough to make
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| Your angels choke
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| You took all you heard
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| And tried to make them your own words
|
| Only deafened by the sound
|
| The bells of a cathedral
|
| Now you hate yourself
|
| And I wish that I could make it fucking stop
|
| Like salt thrown over shoulder
|
| A coin tossed in a fountain
|
| Not unlike a knock on wood
|
| Like salt thrown over shoulder
|
| A coin tossed in a fountain
|
| Not unlike a knock on wood
|
| A knock on wood
|
| All my life
|
| Surrounded, unfounded
|
| A teachings thought as threats
|
| I won’t forget
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| I won’t forget |