| I hang my head for those
|
| Who ain’t been held too close
|
| In times of pain
|
| When it’s ceiling trips
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| The room’s bathed in grey
|
| Outside’s a trip
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| For another day
|
| I keep telling those
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| Expelling those
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| Negative to go away
|
| But it seems to grip
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| More everyday
|
| The walls get taller
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| Self-medicate
|
| «And how did you get this low?»
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| That’s what the illness spoke
|
| For every word they had to say
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| Better of not to see
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| Me this way
|
| Better off just to leave it
|
| Guess this ain’t the world that I dreamt of
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| How many hits can I take?
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| How many things can one soul make?
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| I wrap myself inside my duvet
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| You think these blue giants feel the same?
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| You think they ever have these days?
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| You think they ever have these days?
|
| You think they ever have these days?
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| (These days) |