| Where’s the part when someone jumps
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| Out and tells me I’m asleep?
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| Where’s the part that takes a turn
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| And twists inward unexpectedly?
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| Where’s the part where I’m convinced
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| That I’m hated by my friends?
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| Where’s the part that fucks me up
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| And makes me feel the missing parts again?
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| I don’t deserve to feel this comfortable in my own skin
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| I’m 99% convinced this isn’t real
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| Is this even real?
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| Why did I keep holding on
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| Like my life was in your hands?
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| It’s impossible for me
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| To ever fully understand
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| Something tells me there’s a chance
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| I’ve made it through the other end
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| I can feel myself return
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| From the shape that I was wrapped around and bent
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| If I said that I’ve looked back, then I’d be lying
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| Firmly press my shaking hands against my ears
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| If I said I felt alive, I felt like dying
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| I feel like myself for the first time, the first time in years
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| Where’s the part that I forget
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| Every fucked up little thing
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| That made me feel like 1%
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| Just the smallest part of me?
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| I don’t deserve to feel this comfortable in my own skin
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| I’m 99% convinced this isn’t real
|
| Is this even real?
|
| Is this even real? |