| Down here underneath the microscope
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| It’s hard to cope
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| Don’t hide your face in your hands
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| 'cause if your eyes play tricks
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| It’s outta my control
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| It’s gonna be a long cold winter
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| The skeletons of trees, my blackwater child
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| If you don’t love me, well, don’t shove me
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| Out into the dark
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| Without a flashlight or a spark
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| Any stitches cling like bitches to my arms
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| For all my charms
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| It’s gonna be a crooked little winter
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| The skeletons of trees, my blackwater child
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| She’s walking home
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| To the devil’s flowers
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| The broken bones
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| Of heavy hours
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| We stayed out late
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| It’s a lighthouse trait
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| And we’ll take our time |