| Asking so many questions
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| Finding so little answers
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| My friends told me to give up the ghost
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| and move on But I don’t like to take my chances
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| to take my chances
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| Pick me up off the floorboards
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| I’m not dead and burried yet
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| They always seem to creak
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| When I needed someone to speak to They’ve been the only thing I’ve talked to in weeks
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| Where were you
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| Where were you?
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| Stitch me up and make me new
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| I need someone to pull me through
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| Endless nights with open wounds
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| I’ve been to hell and back because of you
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| Why tell me I need to change?
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| When you woke up in someone else’s bed
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| Without even knowing their name
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| I may have crossed the line
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| This Time!
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| But I sure as hell hope you have a rope for this climb
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| From here on out it’s all a downward slope
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| And I’m not falling for anyone or anything
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| Othe than the noose you tied around my neck
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| I’ve lost all sense of space and time
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| Just thinking about when you were mine
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| The days become weeks and the weeks into months
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| I refuse to put on these implausible fronts
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| To face the world would cause me to self destruct
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| To face the world would cause me to self destruct
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| The days become weeks and the weeks into months
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| I refuse to put on these implausible fronts
|
| To face the world would cause me to self destruct
|
| To face the world
|
| Pick me up off the floorboards
|
| I’m not dead and burried yet
|
| They always seem to creak
|
| When I needed someone to speak to They’ve been the only thing I’ve talked to in weeks
|
| Where were you
|
| Where were you?
|
| Picke me up (Up!) off the floorboards
|
| I’m not dead and buried yet
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| So pick me up (Up!) off the floorboards
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| I’m not dead and buried yet! |