| Just above my head, I can hear your heart beating
|
| But I would not stand to let you in
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| So I forgot what you long for
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| And now what your terror is
|
| And stand side by side
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| In the end we’ll decide
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| When the pictures too scared for the work or
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| Well it’s for the walls we could never break down
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| Well this place is left empty
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| There’s too many places
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| For the ones who can’t hang around
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| Yeah your hum hem home
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| Or hum home hem
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| Is there something that seeps slowly from your skin?
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| Or oh does it drip drolly from your sense of
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| What’s a sin? |
| I know that it’s never been easy
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| But so many things, oh they’ve just never been
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| Oh, no no no
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| But it’s true your heart, it was always a pure one
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| You can feel it in each second guess
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| But the things you prescribed for your self-preservation
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| Were mildly destructive at best, we were patient
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| And wondered sometimes, «where you headed?»
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| But oh no, no we never knew
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| Despite all the things that you dreaded
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| To find something fresh, something real, something true |