| This is the song I’m too scared to write
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| But some of you may need it tonight
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| Oh there you were, heart made of glass
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| Fragile little thing, shattered too fast
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| Tried to pick the pieces up up up
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| And that’s the way you first got cut cut cut
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| Devil drew you in, you didn’t let it show
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| Didn’t want the others to ever have to know
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| That you were getting hooked on up up up
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| And all you had to do was cut cut cut
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| You carved a special place for your pain
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| So it came back to hurt you every night
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| You closed your eyes and wished it all away
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| Until you disappeared under the knife
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| You knew the deal, no one gives a damn
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| Just another needy kid, sob story in hand
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| Keep your secrets covered up up up
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| We don’t need another cut cut cut
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| But you couldn’t hide a heart made of glass
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| You put yourself together with all the strength you had
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| You were finally fed up up up
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| Finally had to scream enough
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| You carved a special place for your pain
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| So it came back to hurt you every night
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| You closed your eyes and wished it all away
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| Until you disappeared under the knife
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| Listen- I know it’s simplified from the other side
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| It’s easy to gloss over all the messy reasons why
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| And it’s easy to forget where you’ve been
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| I guess that’s what the scars are for, huh?
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| When we were 15 we wouldn’t dare let that shit be seen
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| But now it seems mutalation’s gone mainstream
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| I see you at my shows, scarred up from head to toe
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| Like there’s no point even trying not to let it show
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| Cause we all know, emo kids like to hurt themselves
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| Too many feelings and not enough self control
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| And I mean, does this mess any of the rest of you
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| It’s an epidemic and we’re cool with it, don’t question it
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| But it bothers me, our scars are currency by which we’re measured
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| Like let the record show who let it slip and who held it together
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| Cutters and burners and honorable mentions
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| Posers who still cut themselves up for the attention
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| I don’t care your intentions, I just want you to know
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| My self-hatred never took me where I wanted to go
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| And at the end of the day, you know I still had to face
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| That I can pick at the pain, but can’t cut it away
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| And you know what else I can’t do is give you ten good reasons not to
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| I’ve racked my brain for clever sayings of all the things you ought to do
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| But you know, I think if there was something I could say
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| They’d have thrown it on a brochure- and sent you on your way
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| So I’ll keep doing what I always do: drag my heart to the piano and make it
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| sing for you
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| I’ll keep doing what I always do: drag my heart to the piano and let it sing
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| for you
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| Drag my heart to the piano and let it sing for you |