| One more covered up tattoo
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| New year, same issues
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| New shoes scrapped my knees tryna re-tie the laces
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| Boy one was better than boy two
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| Just a little more to lose
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| With a short fuse he blew it and I couldn’t face it
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| And for every jab he took
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| He left a million dollar baby that much weaker
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| It’s not about one open scar
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| A broken heart
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| It’s not about one drop of blood
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| It’s all the little stuff of bottled up
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| What I pushed under the rug
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| How many times do I build it up
|
| To watch it all fall down
|
| It’s not about one open scar
|
| A crashing car
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| It’s not about one broken heart
|
| But a thousand paper cuts
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| Child
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| I’m rubber and he’s glue
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| No book, cannot get through to chapter two
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| I hurt my finder by turnin' them pages
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| It’s wild things you can’t undo
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| So many black and blue’s I out grew
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| I’m timing it all the right places
|
| And every jab we took
|
| Left a hundred thousand cuts we made from paper
|
| It’s not about one open scar
|
| A broken heart
|
| It’s not about one drop of blood
|
| It’s all the little stuff of bottled up
|
| What I pushed under the rug
|
| How many times do I build it up
|
| To watch it all fall down
|
| It’s not about one open scar
|
| A crashing car
|
| It’s not about one broken heart
|
| But a thousand paper cuts
|
| Paper hopes
|
| Paper does what paper should
|
| Paper plates, paper skin
|
| Broken hearts make papercuts
|
| It’s not about one open scar
|
| A broken heart
|
| It’s not about one drop of blood
|
| It’s all the little stuff I bottled up
|
| What I pushed under the rug
|
| How many times do I build it up
|
| To watch it all fall down
|
| It’s not about one open scar
|
| A crashing car
|
| It’s not about one broken heart
|
| But a thousand paper cuts |