| Well I made my bed, I left a note that said,"You'll find me in the ocean.
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| With the face of another, oh, I promise you brother — tomorrow will be a war"
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| At first glance, appearances mean nothing, but further down inside,
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| judgment and heartache await
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| And I for one have grown weary from speaking out
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| So close your mouth. |
| Don’t say a damn word
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| Just bask in the silence and pray for a small consequence
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| Lose all hopes of returning safe to the hell you call home
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| I will stain my arms with ink, and words that I would never speak
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| Cause everyone would be better off without me
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| Hold your breath, baby — your transmission’s out of key
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| A subtle way to strap anchors to my body
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| I’m too tired to compromise. |
| it feels like a thousand knives penetrating
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| They’re deep inside, so salt my wounds and show me that I’m alive
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| Cause everything I feel has started fading
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| And here comes the tide, my grave awaits. |
| this is truly genocide
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| Too many men have fallen just like me
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| I will stain my arms with ink, and words that I would never speak
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| Cause everyone would be better off without me
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| Hold your breath, baby — your transmission’s out of key
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| A subtle way to strap anchors to my body
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| This broadcast is dead, no frequency heard
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| I will return to Mother Earth
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| As the air escapes, and my soul leaves my body
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| For a lonely grave
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| No time to talk, no time for words
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| Failed attempts to feel alive have left me barren and my journey ends tonight
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| This broadcast is dead, this broadcast is dead
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| And this is how it has to end |