| You got marker on your hand
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| Holding shoulders, I saw a policeman drive by
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| Heel to dirt I felt that couldn’t cut my wrist
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| And I spent hours on
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| I’d have held myself much closer then
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| I’d have held myself much closer then
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| It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to
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| Hearing personal last names
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| Never felt like I got off that train
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| In the back of your apartment I would lay down
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| Feel the burden of that carpet
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| Brush my cheek and I spent hours on
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| I’d have held myself much closer then
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| I’d have held myself much closer then
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| It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to
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| Hearing personal last names
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| Calm the stutter I could lie like you have to
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| Just enough to make you wait
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| Pooling like the blood around my knuckles
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| Or the lake around your parents house
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| Or the cut along your eyelid
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| Heavy in the way I trace my losses
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| In the glass where I had only stood
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| I could lapse around your offers
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| Feigning like you don’t know what to call it
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| In the pace along your brother’s eye
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| Or the tremble in your hands now |