| Saving Grace from her own father
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| He’s had six cigarettes and ten lagers
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| Lies in the classroom are getting darker
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| Belt buckle struggle, every day is getting harder
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| Shaking hands, broken heart, now sirens
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| Tinted glass, questions asked in a white room
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| So many ways to feel and see love, she said
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| «The love he gives me makes me feel numb»
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| And on the days when you’ve had enough
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| I save these words for the people I love
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| Mine are the hands you can trust
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| Scars from a time you were lost
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| Slowly the blade turns to rust
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| Remember, these aren’t your fears, they’re just paper-cuts
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| She had monsters too big to be demons
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| Prescribed medicine, can’t define feelings
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| Memories replay and they stole her hope
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| She knew this day would come and that she’d be alone
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| Kitchen floor, on her own, no fight left
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| Heart beats, slow tears flow, last breath
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| Empty bottle on the floor as her eyes roll back
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| Then there’s a door slam, unknown footsteps
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| She hears her name as her hand hits the light switch
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| There’s a voice here to help, new faces
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| Hand on a chest as she hears them say this
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| Mine are the hands you can trust
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| Scars form a time you were lost
|
| Slowly the blade turns to rust
|
| Remember, these aren’t your fears, they’re just paper cuts
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| When the pain goes away
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| And you feel like there’s nothing behind you
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| The nightmares are gone
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| And there’s nothing to keep you awake
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| And it’s all over now
|
| And it’s all over now
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| Mine are the hands you can trust
|
| Scars form a time you were lost
|
| And slowly the blade turns to rust
|
| Remember, these aren’t your fears, they’re just paper cuts |