| i’ve grown sick of waking up to lay down
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| and living days that I’ve have lived through before.
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| along with meeting face to face with a town filled with people i don’t know
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| anymore.
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| but there’s a van outside with nothing but its will to drive,
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| and memories reminding me of times i felt alive.
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| these cities are made of canvas begging to be painted in red.
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| this is our signature; |
| it won’t soon fade away.
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| counting down the days where we can live our lives this way,
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| having no regard for what tomorrow brings.
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| counter it with nights spent getting in over our heads.
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| forgetting what we left back, no regrets or take backs.
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| we’re doing this in style. |
| if i can keep myself intact
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| and this is how i feel at the start,
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| then my veins are like the roads on a map filled with life,
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| and attached to my heart. |
| and it beats for these moments.
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| it beats for moments just like this. |
| where halfway home is halfway gone,
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| exactly where i need to be.
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| looking through this rear view i see what we’ve been through.
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| looking through this rear view i see what we’ve been through.
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| we’ll stay side by side and ride these lines, cause we’ll be counting down. |