| There is no great thing, to stop and sing
|
| Waiting for the rain
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| And this perfect pill, it’s all too much
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| On the edge again
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| Don’t look away
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| Couldn’t help but note the coldest thing
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| In your precious face
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| Why do you always speak when you have no grace
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| In your precious face
|
| But even in the dark I saw you were the only one alone
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| At these hot gates you spit your vitriol
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| Though you swore you wouldn’t do this anymore
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| And I can’t be for you all of the things you want me to
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| But I will love you constantly
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| There’s precious little else to me
|
| And though we cry, we must stay alive
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| Another fragile edge, and a tender sound
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| And then you went aground
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| Near a duller blade, a promise out of sight
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| There’s nothing here for you tonight
|
| But even in the dark I saw you were the only one alone
|
| At these hot gates you spit your vitriol
|
| Though you swore you wouldn’t do this anymore
|
| And I can’t be for you all of the things you want me to
|
| But I will love you constantly
|
| There’s precious little else to me
|
| And though we cry, we must stay alive
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| Let my blood only run out when my world decides
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| There is no way out of your only life
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| So run on, run on! |