| I spent a long time
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| Watering a plant made out of plastic
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| And I curse the ground for growing green
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| I spent a long time
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| Substituting honest with sarcastic
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| And I curse my tongue for being mean
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| Weightless, breathless restitute
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| Motionless and absolute
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| He cut me open
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| Sucked the poison from an aging wound
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| Now 50,000 walking deads
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| Would cower at this small brunette
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| It's a nice surprise knowing six feet high
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| Would reach and grab the moon if I should ask
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| Or just imply that I want you to be more light
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| So I could look inside his eyes
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| And get the colors just right
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| Just right, just right
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| Just
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| Built love, built God, built provinces
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| Built calluses, break promises
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| 'Cause I could never hold a perfect thing
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| And not demolish it
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| What am I thinking? |
| What does this mean?
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| How could somebody ever love me?
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| Talk to your man, tell him he's got bad news coming |