| I’m circling the drain
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| With all my problems in hand
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| Well I gotta pretty good hand I’d say
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| But these new caskets crack the same
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| The first few stones are the worst
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| They fall in unnoticed
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| And scare you for more than they’re worth
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| And all at once you will not hear your own words
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| Closet weather at best and you’re a victim
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| You say we’re all in the basket
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| But oh it’s so fun
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| To remind us over and over again
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| (We dug our own graves)
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| Time’s a wasting so now I must be leaving
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| (We sealed our own fate)
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| I’m crawling outside
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| In the same way that I creeped in
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| (We dug our own graves)
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| And the rain falls down and it’s heavy on my eyelids
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| (We sealed our own fate)
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| Pulled to the ground down the fucking drain
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| Maybe it’s just my luck
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| But I got a spotless record
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| Maybe it’s harder to stay
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| And we got it all wrong from the start
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| Maybe it’s all in the cards
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| Or just an excuse for playing
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| Maybe it’s all in our hearts
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| Maybe I don’t know what I’m saying
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| I’m circling the drain
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| But I’m picking these bones up
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| Cause man, they don’t live there today
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| And I don’t want to hear the fibers crack
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| Cause God knows I’d rather die than be dying
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| It’s not a cliché, no sir, it is a logical preference
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| Because the way things were this year
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| Makes me think how good it all could be
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| And how well it could end
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| Maybe it’s just my luck
|
| But I got a spotless record
|
| Maybe it’s harder to stay
|
| And we got it all wrong from the start
|
| Maybe it’s all in the cards
|
| Or just an excuse for playing
|
| Maybe it’s all in our hearts
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| Maybe I don’t know what I’m saying |