| Sign my farewell with the chimes of clock radio
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| 7 a. |
| m. |
| sun reveals a failed cherubim dangling from the rafters
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| Like a sentimental ghost floating midway
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| Between the curse of the sky and you
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| This noose carries what atrophied wings can’t
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| Don’t you want me disenchanted a deader shade of sorry
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| Buried from the neck up in a slipknot
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| Dragging my feet through the dead air
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| Suspended a fallen chair length from the ground
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| And when you found me when will they finally find me
|
| This halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat
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| Halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat
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| Halo fit my throat, this halo fit my throat
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| I am your contorted angel, writhing at a loss for wings
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| Swelled tongues tell of brighter eyes
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| A severed spine of better days
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| Like the deafened clicks of a blue lipped off the beat pendulum
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| I just wanted to be something more than enough of
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| Oh my god, I don’t think I’m breathing
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| Jesus Christ, I cant hear myself breathing
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| Oh my god, I don’t think I’m breathing
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| Jesus Christ, I cant hear myself breathing
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| This is all
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| I know of flying my eyes set on you like stains
|
| In memory of romance
|
| Of romance
|
| Of romance
|
| Of romance |