| Waking up with my head underwater
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| Gasping for air as my blood begins to boil
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| Found that I love being stuck in these surroundings,
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| I found that I love this liquid world of mine
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| When you sing,
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| all I need is the time to come up and find air,
|
| when you sing,
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| that the end is the part where you start all over again,
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| and this hole shall be filled
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| with the promise of things that will come
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| Falling out with the ones I once depended on,
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| drifting away, I was found but now I’m lost
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| I painted myself in attention seeking colours,
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| but somehow they won’t stick and I won’t shine
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| When you sing,
|
| all I need is the time to come up and find air,
|
| when you sing,
|
| that the end is the part where you start all over again,
|
| and this hole shall be filled
|
| with the promise of things that will come
|
| Ten years I’ve been stuck,
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| never seen the light of day,
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| out of sight, out of mind,
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| ten years of pure decay,
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| I’ve been stuck in this rotten hole where I lay.
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| Ten years I’ve been stuck,
|
| never seen the light of day,
|
| out of sight, out of mind,
|
| ten years of pure decay,
|
| I’ve been stuck in this rotten hole where I lay.
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| When you go out by yourself,
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| When you go out by yourself
|
| when you sing. |