| Help me call you back
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| 'Cause I’m afraid of the ringing
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| I know I’m fucked, but I’m still steadily fixing
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| The gears in my guts, 'cause they’re all twisted up
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| I feel tight in my chest through the smoke in my lungs
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| But hold your tongue 'til you see what I’m making
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| How everything else ended simple and lonely
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| But this isn’t me, it’s my final critique
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| Of my bones, of my skin, of the hate killing me
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| I’m cold on skin contact, blue as a newborn’s lips
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| 'Cause on the day I was born I was horrified to take a breath
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| And I miss the water
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| 'Cause it meant nothing without anyone else around
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| But I thought that it’s all that I wanted
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| I’ve grown to fear the isolation I chose to take a part of
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| Now I get how cliches came to be
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| Though I spent so much time thinking they were below me
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| Simple, the truth that my father had told
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| There is nothing to do if you’re constantly alone
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| I’d lose everything
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| To make up for the person I’ve been
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| I’d lose everything
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| To make up for the person I’ve been
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| I’d lose everything
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| I’d lose everything |