| Kill me, take me out of my own misery
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| Baby, you know that you miss me
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| Baby, I know that you miss me
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| I don’t want this to be simply
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| Put, but I miss you so dearly
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| I just want you to be with me
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| I just want you to be with me
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| Projecting my thoughts on the ceiling
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| I watched as the paint started peeling
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| It couldn’t withstand all the weight, I’m afraid it’s too late
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| Now the structures revealing
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| The stars beyond boards in the distance
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| I reach to the sky for assistance
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| But heaven is lightyears away and the sky’s rather gray
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| So I think that I missed it
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| I sit and ponder 'bout whether
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| I’m able to predict the weather
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| 'Cause if I am capable of it
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| My dearly beloved, we’d belong together
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| But that’s only half of the story
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| I wish I could soak up the glory
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| But anxiety’s got a grip on my shoulders
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| And shit, I don’t know if I’m sorry
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| And they say you miss all of the shots that you don’t ever take
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| So I’ve been photographing every moment spent while I’m awake
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| I’m a critic, my worst enemy, my hours decimate
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| I’m afraid of running out of time, it’s hard to explicate
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| Expediting life expectancies, like how much can I take?
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| I set standards while I drown myself, compile all the weight
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| This discography’s disgusting, I’m ashamed of all I make
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| But this sequel subsequently pieced together all the breaks
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| Breaking down inside my bedroom, nothing new upon my plate
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| Repetitious vicious cycles, I’ll recycle all my hate
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| Channel every fucking ounce back towards myself, oh, what a waste
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| God, if I could only disappear without a single trace
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| It’d be bliss, I would not be missed
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| They pretend they like you, you disgusting piece of shit
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| Salvage all the cargo from this busted, rustic ship
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| So I can sail away upon whatever I equipped |