| Something else inside this house is listening
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| Someone else, don’t say its name out loud
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| Is crawling up your conscience
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| Reaching out, it screams without a sound
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| In the bleakest backrooms of the summer
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| In the sacred fading arms of home
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| Of the times when you found love
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| That it let you know you’ll never be alone
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| But there’s that sting again, yeah
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| Don’t wanna know the dry embrace again, hey
|
| Don’t wanna hear the song it sings again
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| You don’t wanna dig it up, but it pulls you
|
| And it pulls you
|
| And it don’t show you any mercy
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| No, we won’t show mercy
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| No, we can’t be found
|
| No, we won’t show mercy
|
| No, we can’t be found
|
| No, we won’t show mercy
|
| No, we can’t be found
|
| No, we won’t show mercy
|
| No, we can’t be found
|
| It’s a presence too private to share, yeah
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| An omnipresence no one else can know
|
| Of the rising of the words
|
| That it let you know you’ll never be alone
|
| But there’s that sting again, yeah
|
| Don’t wanna know the dry embrace again, hey
|
| Don’t wanna hear the song it sings again, hey
|
| You don’t wanna dig it up, but it pulls you
|
| And it pulls you
|
| And it don’t show you any mercy, no |