| By this age I thought I’d be dead and gone
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| I’m still figuring out what I fucking want
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| I do work but don’t have a job
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| Pay rent but don’t have a home
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| What does that freedom cost?
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| Had a dream the other night that you were back alive
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| for the way you died
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| It’s your fucking Sometimes
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| attempting to survive when there’s no hope in sight
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| I don’t know what it means to go slow
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| But deep down I’m hoping I’ll grow old
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| I don’t know what it means to go slow
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| But deep down I’m hoping I’ll grow old
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| Wish I could lie to you and say the world has changed
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| That people became better since you left this place
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| But it somehow just feels the same
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| Another incel killed immigrants,
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| And most days feel heavy from the weight of the world
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| And the weight of this skin and fat and bones
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| So I’m left here carving a space for myself
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| Embracing the pain of this short existence
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| I don’t know what it means to go slow
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| But deep down I’m hoping I’ll grow old
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| I don’t know what it means to go slow
|
| But deep down I’m hoping I’ll grow old
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| No I don’t want to hang myself today
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| And I consider that a win
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| No I don’t want to hang myself today
|
| And I consider that a win
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| I remember when they prayed for you on the internet
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| I remember when those prayers came and went
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| The next day we had one less friend
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| Humans cling onto anything when they’re feeling helpless
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| There are many days that I wish I had your guts
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| And the beautiful way you didn’t give a fuck
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| But it feels like sad fat luck
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| That I’m even alive so I’m stuck accepting this present
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| I don’t know what it means to go slow
|
| But deep down I’m hoping I’ll grow old
|
| I don’t know what it means to go slow
|
| But deep down I’m hoping I’ll grow old
|
| No I don’t want to hang myself today
|
| And I consider that a win
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| No I don’t want to hang myself today
|
| And I consider that a win |