| I’m tearing apart at the seams
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| Still trying to mend these holes in my jeans
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| Leaving my skin to stain as I bleed
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| Give up, disintegrate, secede
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| Toss and turn in this concrete bed
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| And in the morning I’ll try again
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| Pray for something to ease my dread
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| End up with trembling limbs instead and this feels endless
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| As if there’s not a solace in the world that can mend this
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| Everything will repeat in the end it’s not a matter of 'if' it’s 'when'
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| This has happened before it’ll happen again
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| It comes in waves and I’m pulled below
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| It’s not subjective, it’s clinical
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| Drown myself in the undertow of all my imbalanced chemicals
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| And this cycle comes full circle
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| This cycle comes full circle again
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| So back to the needle and the thread
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| I’ve had enough of this blood I’ve bled
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| I wanna breathe life in my lungs again
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| Clear the fog that fucks my head
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| Without a struggle there can’t be progress
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| (Even though the weight is crushing me)
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| Without a struggle there can’t be progress
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| (Aim to kill, fight defeat)
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| 'Til it comes around again
|
| It comes in waves and I’m pulled below
|
| It’s not subjective, it’s clinical
|
| Drown myself in the undertow of all my imbalanced chemicals
|
| And this cycle comes full circle
|
| This cycle comes full circle again
|
| 'Cause I’ve had days that I swore would be my last
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| And spent months walking on this broken glass
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| Just to tiptoe towards the thought that maybe someday I’d get back,
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| to who I used to be
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| To what I used to see in the mirror
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| Instead of this misery
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| And to rid myself of this cloud that will rain down and cause me to slip back
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| in to my apathy, but I know eventually
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| I’m gonna come around and maybe it won’t be easy but it will be worth it and
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| the results will be profound
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| Because instead of feeling cornered the corners of my mouth will start to point
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| up
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| Instead of being anchored down |