| You’re not the first girl to draw her fears on her arms,
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| In hopes to capture,
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| All the memories that hunted you down.
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| You can sow your lips shut with your heart strings,
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| 'Cause god knows you don’t need them to hold yourself together.
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| But don’t look down because I don’t know,
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| Falling is fatal from this height.
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| I know I should have never held you up this high.
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| This high.
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| You’re not the first girl to cut her fears in her arms,
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| Then let them trickle down,
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| Passed memories to pools in your hands.
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| You can hang yourself with your heart strings,
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| 'Cause I know you won’t use them to hold yourself up anymore.
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| But don’t look down because I don’t know,
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| Falling is fatal from this height.
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| I know I should have never held you up this high.
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| This high.
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| Pull the needle from the back of my veins.
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| Pull the needle.
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| Pull the pin from my picture.
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| From my picture.
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| And I will fall to the floor,
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| But you have to pull yourself together.
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| But don’t look down because I don’t know,
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| Falling is fatal from this height.
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| I know I should have never held you up this high.
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| This high.
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| This high.
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| (This high…) |