| Dig yourself a hole and throw your asthma in
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| Throw the toys in after
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| Cover them with earth
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| Dig another hole and throw your conscience in
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| Drop your hiccups down
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| And arrange them well
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| Dig a deeper hole and bury all those words
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| Bury all the fangs
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| That they bared last night
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| Dig another one and put yourself inside
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| And close your eyes
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| It’s comfortable
|
| Crawling through the house in darkness
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| Cause I’m looking for a blanket
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| Yeah, I’ve got another hole to fill now
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| Gotta keep them going
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| Gather clothes and books and photos
|
| Gather anything of value
|
| And I’ll cover them with dirt and compost
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| Make a place to lay my head
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| No light in this room
|
| Just the glow from the oven
|
| And the screech of their laughter is all you can hear
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| If you just close your eyes
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| You can pretend it’s heaven
|
| We might be crooked now
|
| But we’re even when we grow
|
| If you catch yourself drifting
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| If your feet leave the ground
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| Warp your arms around a lamp post
|
| Or just drift until you’re found
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| If you could see me now
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| We’d laugh yourself to stitches
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| We might be crooked now
|
| But it doesn’t matter what we show
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| Cause we’ll be even when we grow |