| I’ll fill the void with song
|
| 'Til my cup runneth over
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| All night long
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| I’ll live in vans crammed with guitars
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| I’ll sleep on floors and play at bars
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| I’ll dance to my own metronome
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| 'Til chaos feels like home
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| I’ll grow colder
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| I’ll grow bolder
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| I’ll grow older
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| And keep fillin' my cup
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| I’ll grow colder
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| I’ll grow bolder
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| I’ll grow older
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| But I’ll never grow up
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| And this is not a passing phase
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| (It was just a passing phase)
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| Oh, this is not a passing phase
|
| (It was just a passing phase)
|
| You see, I’ll stay young for so long
|
| (It was just a passing phase)
|
| 'Til chaos feels like home
|
| (It was just a passing phase)
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| Up and down from town to town
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| 'Til van wheels go round and round
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| Up and down from town to town
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| 'Til van wheels go round and round
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| Every night, play rock and roll
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| Get fucked up after the show
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| In the morning, lock and load
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| And then leave-
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| Right when it was starting to feel real.
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| Wish we could talk about how the means will not prepare you for the ends
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| How your epiphanies will become fair-weather friends |
| How death will make you lower your defenses
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| The only truth of youth is the grown-up consequences
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| See, song is a balm
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| But song cannot heal
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| You believed in it too long
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| Now I need something more than real
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| I need something more than real
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| Someday, the chords of age
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| Will drown out the life you’ve been dreaming of
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| Then you’ll be out on your ass
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| And cursing a lass
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| Your song is just passing for love
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| My song was just passing for love
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| And you will never see her again
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| And I will never see her again
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| And we will never see her again |