| Rewriting the definitions
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| Of what went wrong and what should have been
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| Countless, useless, miserable and scared
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| And a pair of bottles in our hands to dig our own graves
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| But the flowers they won’t bloom over the boxes we’ll live in
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| Spring’s gone
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| Where is the cash?
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| I’ve got a thirst to quench and nothing but a dime
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| I’ve buried myself under unnamed regrets
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| Don’t nail the last planks
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| I’ve got questions to ask
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| I forgot a lot of details and don’t know where to start
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| The hammer stopped and it all turned black
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| And when the shovel’s gone it ain’t never coming back
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| Weary and reckless I’ve been counting the shadows
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| Before the first rats and worms knock at the door
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| We were all meant for more
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| Blaming the bottle but not the throat
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| Watch your step kid cause it’s you against the world
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| And the fire in your eyes it can also be your biggest curse
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| I hate farewells
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| I hate farewells
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| I’m shaking hands in a world of snakes
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| «Good bye. |
| Forget. |
| The privilege is to follow»
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| Mine has always been to be the first step in the snow
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| «Good bye. |
| Forget. |
| The privilege is to follow»
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| Mine has always been to be the first step in the snow |