| «Doubt me in hell.» |
| said the masochist
|
| From his cold heart crumbling like an avalanche
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| Reaching out for assistance
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| But the distance 'tween him and any help’s a hell of a mission
|
| That’s a result of them burnt bridges
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| Now he’s sitting there alone hoping they miss him
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| But they ain’t know that he knows
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| Cause he phoned them a long time ago, and they ain’t call back
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| Now he a lone wolf again
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| With no home and no friends, barely making ends meet
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| Tried to put his pride to the side
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| But it’s too late cause they don’t even want to fuckin' vibe with him
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| See I’m a prisoner imprisoned in a cell that I build for myself
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| And I’m a dead man lying in a grave that I dug
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| So I lay quietly for now
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| And as I muster up the courage
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| To endure another day spent hurtfully alone
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| I’m learning how I went from having everything I ever wanted
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| To a lifetime of sorrow
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| See it’s an ongoing cycle of self-destruction 'till I self-implode
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| I’m so selfish and helpless trapped in myself with no self control
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| Said, «as I muster up the courage to endure another day spent hurtfully alone.»
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| I do my best to break out of this coffin I built that entraps my soul
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| Still hurt from
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| I do my best to break out of this coffin |