| Is there something wrong with hanging out in a fragile state of mind?
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| I do it all the time I think as I sip on my cheap wine
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| I can see everyone around me seems so pleased
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| In my head, I’m on my knees pleading with myself to leave
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| So I fake it
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| To the point, I start to hate it
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| And I just can’t shake this feeling
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| And I hate to feel exposed
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| And I feel like I’m the only one
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| In a crowd without their clothes
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| Here we go, everyone is approaching me
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| Asking about those close to me
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| And if life’s going how it’s supposed to be, but it’s not
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| And I know that I should smile and shake their hand
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| And every feeling in my gut says
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| I should’ve took my chance and ran
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| Cause I can’t take it
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| I begin to wonder if I’ll make it
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| And there’s gotta be a way to bring my mind back from the cold
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| To avoid the stares of everyone and give me back my clothes
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| And you know, the Phoenix may rise up and fly again
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| But one would think it’d lose a bit of soul everytime
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| The ashes may always reform
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| But do the flames happen to burn away the scars in my mind?
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| I don’t think they do… |