| Oh lord, I’m having issues, more deep than American missiles
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| Shooting commuter planes and filing emissions official
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| I’ve hit depression hard and started to pick at the scabs
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| From the scar, I’m a mess addressing pain in a bar, I confess
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| Cause all the rest just mar shit, chest in a cast
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| Feeling urges just to test out a casket, bless me I’m blasphemous
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| Jesus pass the fifth, I… have to get lit
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| Masochist self I’m only half of the health I was born with
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| (Baby) Save me, take me up high like 'dro
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| But way far past the stars and the sky
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| I’m blinding pain like I’m a junkie shooting up with
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| Emotional novacaine, I’m floating provoking the angels to jump me
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| In layman’s terms, faith’s been blurred, even early
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| I scratched crayon in between the holy word I pray on, but still
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| (Baby) Three gone, and maybe I’m in barren land
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| God help me, I’m having trouble with your master plan so
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| (Take Me) the shadows of valleys of death, God
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| (Take me) when I’m shooting, taking last breaths hard
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| (Baby) I want to walk through the valleys praying lord
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| Will you help me, save me God, won’t you tell me, tell me
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| (Take me) Cause I’m losing my faith, bless me
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| (Take me) Cause this world just wanna test me
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| You see this dirty knife on the floor, this chrome nine in my hand
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| These foul thoughts in my conscious, constantly understand
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| See we taught to believe if you can touch it and see it, it must
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| Be real so go believe it. |
| But I’ve never seen Jesus
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| I’ve never seen God, so he’s only a thesis
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| And I’m questioning all these things in my time to depart
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| I know it’s written suicide is giving hell and devils privilege
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| Only wicked heathens commit it, sin of ages, well fuck it, bring it!
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| Lately I’ve been waking early mornings screaming
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| «Save me,» dreams of seven horsemen chasing Jean, hastening speed
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| So I’m raising the barrel envisioning marrow
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| Splashed on the wall and polka dotting all my apparel
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| And maybe, Ginsu blades through skin will slay
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| And split thin veins instead of loading clips that spray
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| And if I’m meant to stay, then I’ll just pass through the gates
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| And fall a long way back to Earth, so why don’t you just
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| You can see the pain twist my face from a distance
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| The body’s windows glistening red hot from all of the indo
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| Thinking of my next of kinfolk, my mama
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| Opening doors, crimson billows spread out on the pillows and floor
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| I gotta block it out. |
| I’m set on knocking out
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| Lock and aim and I’m dropping my frame quick when I pop in the brain
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| And if God’s omnipotent, will he slip in and change
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| And move the pistol so it shoots out of range and the lead whistles?
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| (Baby) Maybe he’s just playing; |
| it’ll ricochet
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| And cripple me strictly for questioning, give me life to the pain
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| Sickle-shaped body bent in the middle
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| So little kids who pass me harass me and giggle
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| My figure’s itching to touch on the answers
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| Hard-headed like exotic dancers' nipples
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| Picturing the bullets ripping the skin on the mantle I’m holding
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| Pull back and blow the wick right off the candle
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| Throw a kiss until the world’s out of focus
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| So now (take me) |