| My body’s made of cells and cells are made to keep you caged
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| I keep awake to celebrate my sweet escape
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| I’ve seen the flames of this hell and made it either way
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| So why be afraid, It’s okay
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| It’s just fire it’s just love it’s just us
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| It’s just trust it’s just this once
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| When these small talk graces keep me warm
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| Like a small-pox blanket in a storm
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| When the rainfalls and entrenches all that gets touched
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| Making evergreens to defend against the next one
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| I’ll take a Redrum neat or on the rocks
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| One of these cocktails will be a molotov
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| If I keep it up eyes shut and my feet are stuck
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| Icarus wings adjust just so I can reach the sun
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| So I can sing with such ardor I deplete my lungs
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| And my heart beats so much that it starts seizing up
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| These are the symptoms of an optimist
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| Melancholia kissed him on his bottom lip
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| And here I am, a picture of accomplishment
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| Mixture of the opposites insecure and confident
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| So is this a path of glory
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| Or a dead end to a lonely saddened story
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| Where I buried my confession I married my depression
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| Now the holy matrimony’s grown to owing alimony
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| Show me what I hide beneath my grin, under my deceitful skin’s
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| Another guy I’d like to meet, I wonder why he seems so grim
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| Every piece of him they subdivide to equal bits
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| To pitch into the ocean told 'em love is blind so sink or swim
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| And so I oblige breast stroking side to side
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| Till the stroke inside my breast gets hold and I abide
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| And so by and by I try to fight a tide that’s tidal sized
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| Until my vital signs subside and I write my goodbyes
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| To my friends that are dropping like flies
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| It’s a trend that I’ll follow in time
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| I pretend that I ought to be fine
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| Getting dizzy once again from these wandering eyes of mine
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| I need some R & R I think I’ll drink some R & R
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| Sip spirits lift spirits then I’ll raise the bar at bars
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| I bring the darkest part of myself door to door
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| Let’s press our chests together then we’ll have a heart to heart
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| I saw a falling star and didn’t wish upon it
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| If you’re not that superstitious you don’t get that disappointed
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| I’ll never say I’m different, cause I’ve never made a difference
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| And I’ve yet to pay attention to the debt that I’ve avoided
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| I set to write a portrait out of my emotional confessions
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| This is spring cleaning for a closet full of bone collections
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| I’m not alone the monochrome is so infectious
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| But I won’t regret it if I follow all my own directions |