| Tightening it’s grip on me My moral compass spinning
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| Draining my live empty
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| Give me something to believe in Wounded up, I’m way too thight
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| Fear tearing, wearing me thin
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| And knowing it ain’t right
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| Give me something to believe in Wanna move on, gotta face the music
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| There’s only one way out
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| Tired of stumbling
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| Searching endlessly
|
| And giving in to more than doubt
|
| Let them take, all that they can
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| Each one of them, I will not bend
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| I ain’t broke, they can’t break me As I am, not one of them
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| These so called friends, they’re a joke
|
| Headstrong your apathy
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| Neurotic and quite nervous
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| Obtuse propensity
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| Still convinced it serves your purpose
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| Lacking the sense to care
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| Degrading and puberscent
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| Discretion worse for wear
|
| Is this something to believe in Wanna move on, gotta face the music
|
| There’s only one way out
|
| Tired of stumbling
|
| Searching endlessly
|
| And giving in to more than doubt
|
| Let them take, all that they can
|
| Each one of them, I will not bend
|
| I ain’t broke, they can’t break me As I am, not one of them
|
| These so called friends, they’re a joke
|
| Know I have to walk
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| Have to walk away
|
| Never seemed to fit most of the time
|
| I’ll be better off
|
| Better off this way
|
| And taking back what’s mine
|
| Wanna move on, gotta face the music
|
| There’s only one way out
|
| Tired of stumbling
|
| Searching endlessly
|
| And giving in to more than doubt
|
| Let them take, all that they can
|
| Each one of them, I will not bend
|
| I ain’t broke, they can’t break me As I am, not one of them
|
| These so called friends, they’re a joke |