| Walking down aisles of vintage stores
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| And peacefully window shopping
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| Stalking the nightmare that cuts your core and keeps you sobbing
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| He could be anywhere around you and you just don’t know it
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| The person who ended your greatest joy and truest friendship
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| It’s common courtesy to stay at the scene of the crash
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| But he drove away
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| And left your heart to reflect upon a peaceful past
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| Every day, the same tortured silence
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| What if the futures just to remind me
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| That my past was my only blessing?
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| You said, «What if the man who killed my wife
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| Sleeps in the house next door to mine?»
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| That’s the reality with unsolved crimes
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| He lives with a burden, but she only lives in your mind
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| What if the hollowed-out feeling is a memory
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| That I could barely find?
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| Where does faith come in
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| When it’s already been confirmed that she has died?
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| What if the futures just to remind me
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| That my past was my only blessing?
|
| Where is the sense of thriving?
|
| We’re all so sick of dying
|
| I’ve seen this eat you alive
|
| I’ve seen that death can be done
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| You beg for silence but you’re a constant echo
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| A voice buried from a past
|
| (We're all so sick of dying)
|
| Survivor’s guilt because you didn’t want to let go
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| And now it’s buried in your flesh
|
| (We're all so sick of dying)
|
| You’re still here, and she’s not coming back
|
| You’re still here, and she’s not coming back
|
| What if the futures just to remind me
|
| That my past was my only blessing?
|
| Where is the sense of thriving?
|
| We’re all so sick of dying
|
| I’ve seen this eat you alive
|
| I’ve seen that death can be done |