| I ain’t got no faith in myself
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| And I can’t see what I could love in you
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| From what I know, I even doubt what I cherish
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| And I hate the vague words
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| But I don’t wanna be lost
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| I don’t wanna see all I have when I stare at the mirror
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| Do we only exist to survive?
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| Do I only exist to survive?
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| For all the mess I leave
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| There is a price to pay
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| And no one to blame but me
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| I tend to care about nothing
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| But the bottles I’ve thrown to the sea
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| I’m falling apart
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| And carrying my faded torches
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| From time to time I tend to believe
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| Not only fists have been kissing my cheeks
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| Cause I understand you only wear the fucked faces of my failures
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| A thorn in the belly
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| And no hands to hold
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| The blood is pouring
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| And my body’s cold
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| I’ve been writing poems to my stomach
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| Some words to make him feel alright
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| But I ain’t got no pleasure in lying to this old friend of mine
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| And maybe he’ll understand what I called «the sun»
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| Is just easy mornings seeing all doubts gone
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| And the faith in all that lays in my head
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| Well, the sun is still hiding from me
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| I guess it’s all a business between my guts and I
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| Some kind of personal war
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| Some lights are meant to shine
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| Some suns are meant to hide
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| Just never forget who you are
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| A son, a friend. |
| A heart, and a brain |