| Busted wire and the tattered tongue
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| Songs she wrote but she never sung
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| Quiet eve of another year
|
| She’ll soon forget
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| Her blackened lungs from the cigarettes
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| Her mother smoke' when her father left
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| She sings a song in a sad attempt
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| To change her mind
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| And she said «'n' I have hope for others
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| Father, I have given up
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| 'Cause I have hope for others
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| Father, I I have given up»
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| Quart' to ten in the room below
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| Busted wares suppose they’ll need to know
|
| Close her eyes and hums a song
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| That made her smile
|
| Grabs a note and reads aloud
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| «The passion new’d make a mother proud
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| I miss you so, it seems we all much going on»
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| Cause she wrote «I have hope for others
|
| But Mother, I must go alone
|
| Yes, I have hope for others
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| Mother, I-I have given up.»
|
| Well I’ve, I’ve given up
|
| Well I, I, I, I have given up
|
| Yeah, I’ve given up
|
| My love, my God, I’ve given up
|
| In my heart, in my heart, in my heart
|
| In my heart, in my heart, in my heart
|
| I have, I have given up
|
| In my heart, in my heart, in my heart
|
| In my heart, in my heart, In my heart
|
| I have, I have given up |