| Passed out in your yard
|
| My clothes were soaking in the morning rain
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| My head’s just a bruise, like walking in a coma
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| Like a battered drone
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| All my limbs are numb
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| I’ve been driving past your house
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| Been pounding at your door
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| I know I’m just a peon to you
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| But I deserve more
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| Than arrogance
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| Condolences
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| My hearts are on the sleeves of my shirts scattered over your lawn
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| And the morning dew… kissed them
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| Drunk on Bastille Day
|
| Throwing pennies at the broken birds
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| Scribbling plans on napkins
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| A sketch of broken angel wings under your bed
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| My bandages
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| Stumbled over to your house
|
| I’ll sneak in the back door
|
| I know I’ve been an asshole to you, but that was before
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| The argument, the accident
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| Well, I’ve heard it’s just a matter of time before the hour is spent
|
| And my hour is spent
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| I can’t afford it this time
|
| I can’t afford this time
|
| I can’t afford this time
|
| I can’t afford it…
|
| The hour has come for retribution
|
| I’m storming the walls down
|
| I’m storming the walls down
|
| The hour has come for retribution
|
| I’m storming the walls down
|
| I’m storming the walls down
|
| Before this night’s done, the wounds will be gone
|
| I’m storming the walls down
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| I’m storming the walls down |