| It all started with closed eyes
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| And a feeling in my gut telling me
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| I need to keep them shut the whole time
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| 'Cause if they opened, even for a second, and I saw your lips
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| They’d suck me in like black holes when they bend light
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| And it was then I realized you were not my world
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| You were my universe
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| Sometimes when I look up, I see stars
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| That cut through the sky and fade quickly into nothingness
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| And I pray that you aren’t as fleeting
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| 'Cause when we’re lying in roads, I get the same feeling
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| That gravity will just turn off and I’ll fall endlessly
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| Into something much larger than I am
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| And I wonder if that’s what it feels like to die and
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| If I’ll ever understand god in my lifespan
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| 'Cause I wanna see god
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| I want to know what god feels like
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| But with the weight of the Bible, I will break Adam’s ribs
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| And repeat, my dear Eve, you do not take after this
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| You were not made in a man’s image
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| But if that’s the case, why do you feel so lost
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| In the empty space that his hand isn’t?
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| Why do I wait, wondering how long it’ll take you to admit it?
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| I’d rather keep my mouth shut
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| Then start to say what I can’t finish
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| Baby, I have limits
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| I have limits
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| I’m singing 'la la la' in empty rooms that carry sounds like hollow caves
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| 'La la la' just to prove you’re not the only one that can occupy a borrowed
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| space
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| 'La la la' for every ship that was set to sail, but got washed away
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| I’m singing 'la la la' in desperate hopes that when it bounces back,
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| I hear the octave change
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| So if we could just pretend
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| That your voice exists inside this empty void within
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| Then holy shit, holy shit, holy shit if you spoke
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| Insomnia might loosen its wholesome grip on my throat
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| And I could begin to forgive you for admitting the hoax
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| Instead of learning to hate you for every minute you don’t
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| 'Cause I sit here, wondering if anything you said was true
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| And who it was that taught you to speak bullets
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| Without considering the exit wound
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| Tell me who
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| 'Cause I still think back to the first time you called me with nothing to say
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| That morning you were more than just my friend
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| And we’d both noticed something had changed
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| You drove to your parent’s house
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| And we talked about everything
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| We talked about how much it sucked
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| But no matter what, we had to remain
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| Nothing
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| And in that deafening silence
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| I asked if I could still call you my snowflake
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| And you said okay
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| You said okay
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| You said okay |