| You finally realize what I’m capable of
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| It only took the slice from my knife and your blood to hit the rug
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| It’s funny, a second ago you were asking me to leave
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| Now you’re begging me to stay to help you breathe
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| Are you finally ready to talk?
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| Before you didn’t have much to say
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| You took my kindness for weakness so I’ll take this the long way
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| You were someone’s little precious girl
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| Their gleaming, darling pearl
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| Not ready to leave this world
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| You say you wish you told your family you love them
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| And that you never should’ve put work above them
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| You’re making excuses and swearing that you’ll solve them
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| But, like you told me, «Kid, that’s just not my problem»
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| Round the stairs up to your apartment
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| With something I should have left in the glove compartment
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| Room 212, that’s you on the top floor
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| A condescending look greets me as you open the door
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| You don’t want to but you invite me to your kitchen
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| I say, «We need to talk and I’d really like you to listen»
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| You find some rude remark you think is funny to snap back |
| You always cut me off
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| You know I fucking hate that
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| And now the blood in my face is swelling
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| My fight or flight is sure as hell telling
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| You’re laughing in my face, this is accomplishing nothing
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| Before I know it I just start cutting
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| And it feels so good to make you cry, to make you bleed
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| The look in your eyes as you grow weak
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| Pull up and put the car in park
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| Take a second alone to think in the dark
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| There are only 2 ways that this can go
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| Yeah, I’ll bring it this time but it’s just for show
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| I’d like to have a real conversation instead
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| I swear this time I won’t lose my head
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| Because if I do with you
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| You’re better off dead |