| In the fall of my youth
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| I try to make it up to you
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| Face the masonry with knives
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| I try to save my little life
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| But all the time it fails me
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| Will my back be shot right through
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| From sitting slumped on my right side for all of my life?
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| It takes weeks not days to heal now, heal now
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| When, when I dig into my skin, the cuts are slow and shimmering
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| The cuts are slow and shimmering
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| But decade you rang
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| Pulled all the phonebooks out
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| Gather and leap again
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| It’s not the last time that I quit
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| I don’t want to be sick, I don’t want to be sick no more
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| This is something that I’m used to
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| I don’t want to be sick no more
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| Jot a note into the future
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| If you’re hiding blindly from the truth
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| Living lights obstruct the movement of other orbits in your view
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| That orbit all around you
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| And all the tiny frailties
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| I never want to go
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| But meteorites command me
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| In fragments of my foolish mind they send me
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| They send me |