| It’s easy to leave
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| It’s hard to stay behind and rest
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| With all the stupid things I believe
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| And watch my life drift like dust
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| I hope I make it to a warm heart
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| I hope that’s where I belong
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| I hope I don’t end up out of breath
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| Wherever the washed up are hung
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| I’m afraid of my own shadow because it’s what I’ve become
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| Why do I waste my time with people who’ll never love anyone?
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| My only sin, my only sin: I started hating my own skin
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| Home, home, home. |
| I hope I make it home
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| Home, home. |
| I hope I make it home
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| I got lost and the road dragged on and on
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| I couldn’t remember what I was chasing
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| No, or what I had become
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| I always thought my life looked much better at a distance
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| Now I’m just another set of eyes lost in the blur
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| And the only thing left in this world that bothers to hate me
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| Is my pride
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| No one sees me, they don’t need to to know I slipped away with the tide
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| Home, home, home. |
| I hope I make it home
|
| Home, home. |
| I hope I make it home
|
| Home, home. |
| I hope I make it home
|
| I got lost, I started hating my own skin
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| I got lost, I started hating my own skin |