| There’s a picture frame hangin' at the end of the hall
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| Pile of dust on the floor where my fist met the drywall
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| That’s my MO, leavin' something broke everywhere I go
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| Holes
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| There’s a rusty old truck door sittin' in a field
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| That I filled full of buckshot every time i got
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| Mad at something over nothing didn’t matter at all
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| Holes
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| In my life, down in my bones
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| From my heart, to my soul
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| There’s a lonely space on the big brass bed where we first made love
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| And she laid head on my shoulder before I told it was over
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| Holes
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| There’s a million conversations with my old man
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| 'Bout who he was, and who I am
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| That I never had, I just wouldn’t listen
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| I just kept digging myself down in 'em holes in my life
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| Down in my bones
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| From my heart, to my soul
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| Holes
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| Well I woke up today, put the shovel down
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| Stepped out of my haze, took a look around
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| Saw a ray of light shining through the clouds
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| So I climbed out
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| And I let it shine
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| Down in my bones
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| From my heart, right through my soul
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| Through all my holes
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| Through all these holes |