| If only the drinks understood what I’ve been through
|
| If only my attempts to blot you out didn’t hurt my health
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| If only I learned how to love what I died to
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| Then maybe I’d learn how to hate what I do to myself
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| ‘Cause I remember trips we took
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| Like we just got home yesterday
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| I revisit our old pictures
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| Like the headstone on our grave
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| I remember gifts I gave you
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| On your birthday at the beach
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| The engraving on your watch
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| That marked our anniversary
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| When does the healing start?
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| How long do I have to feel this low?
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| Why don’t I protect my heart?
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| I can’t remember ever feeling so alone
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| Why doesn’t God show His face when I need Him to?
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| I wish I had the strength to ask Him where He went
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| ‘Cause then maybe He’d welcome me home, like a father would
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| And maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here, oh, so spent
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| ‘Cause I remember back in Sunday school
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| That He was in control
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| So I confessed Him with my mouth
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| But that was fourteen years ago
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| I remember nights when I would cry
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| Alone beneath the moon
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| Oh, if only I could find the strength |
| To ask Him, «Where were You?»
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| When does the healing start?
|
| How long do I have to feel this low?
|
| Why don’t I protect my heart?
|
| I can’t remember ever feeling so alone
|
| When does the healing start?
|
| How long do I have to feel this low?
|
| Why don’t I protect my heart?
|
| I can’t remember ever feeling so alone
|
| I can’t remember ever feeling so alone
|
| If only I’d seen how you looked when I told you
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| That I wouldn’t leave you no matter how dark it got
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| Then maybe I’d have seen it coming, my lover
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| Maybe I’d have avoided becoming somebody I’m not |