| On tuesday I got the call
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| That damn phone call
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| I’d been bracing for all week
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| No, don’t say it
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| I watched her crawl in bed with you
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| I watched her wet your lips
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| And couldn’t do a God damned thing
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| I watched you shake, I watched our hearts break
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| I couldn’t wrap my fingers around your spine
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| And shake it loose from the bone
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| I couldn’t fight against the loss
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| I never set fire to your bed
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| I never burnt the bed sores
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| I never ate the flame, or drank the sweat
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| But if it burns me up
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| I won’t char half as much as I’ll keep warm
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| Life goes on because it has to, these things
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| They never leave, they stay with you
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| The smell of the viewing
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| Your friends singing your praises
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| The flower boot that never bloomed until we lost you
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| The first Christmas we suffered through
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| Room 211, kissing your head
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| The last look into your eyes
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| Not having the words to say thank you
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| Say good bye |