| The cinematic after effects of alcohol
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| Have led me to believe
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| That there’s nothing more beautiful
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| Than a face as it starts to fade
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| From your memory, what had once been clear as the day
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| Obscured by the shade
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| And I was always the thorn to your rose
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| A long string of disappointing days
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| Led me to concede that I’d been losing sleep
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| And I’m tired and frayed at the seams
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| And things are changing in me
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| It’s been two hard months since I could call you my own
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| It cuts to the bone
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| Is there anything that I can do when I’ve been turned into stone
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| But I was always the thorn to your rose
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| Some doors are better left closed
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| You move like a rolling wave
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| One that don’t fade when it’s gone
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| Beyond a doubt it gets so hard that a stone would cry out
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| I know there’s a lesson in here
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| But it’s so hard to find
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| I’ve been searching my mind
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| A little pearl of wisdom for the later years
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| When the thread of this life starts to unwind
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| I never had to fight for my love
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| But that’s over I know
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| It’s just how it goes
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| I never had to fight for my love
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| But that’s over I know
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| It’s just how it goes
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| And you move like a rolling wave
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| One that don’t fade when it’s gone
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| Beyond a doubt it gets so hard, it gets so hard
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| That a stone would cry out
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| Some doors are better left closed
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| Some say this place makes it hard to hold your head up
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| Some days this face makes me feel like I’ve been set up |