| I’m sorry the party you threw for me
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| Was met with such a royal hitch
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| I’m a bitch, I don’t mean to be selfish
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| You rolled out the carpet to watch it catch fire
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| It’s just another Thursday, my party
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| I cried like I always do, oh oh oh
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| Flew here to help clear the mess that was me
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| Made up of fear and self-hate
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| A stalemate with he-who-shall-not-be-named
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| You tried and you cried, confessing your grip was slipping
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| Couldn’t help me, you held me, the shadows began to fade
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| Here’s to the ones
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| The renegades who never run
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| Despite all of my ranting and raging so
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| Here’s to the ones
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| Who hide the bullet from the gun
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| Foot down on all my bullshit but won’t cage me in
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| Despondent, catatonic suicide queen
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| By now I know a screw’s loose or too few
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| Or worse there’s too many
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| But of course, the dark horse
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| You bet all in stride
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| I hope I’m not a regret, I see sweat
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| I’ll fight to the finish line, oh oh oh
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| And I get so stuck in my head
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| Lost in all the lies, nihilistic backslide
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| And when I can’t get out of bed
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| And I see the edge I’m slipping from the ledge
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| And praying to gods I don’t believe in for a sign
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| Some reasons not to die and there you are
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| Here’s to the ones
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| Who stuck in when they should have run
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| Despite all of my ranting and raging so
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| Here’s to the ones
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| Who hide the bullet from the gun
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| Foot down on all my bullshit but won’t cage me
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| Here’s to my friends
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| All in until the bitter end
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| Drink or two to the toast
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| Not too many though |