| I’m sick of trembling in fear at the idea of death
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| Since it’s always on my mind I just hide in my bed
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| «Everybody's scared of it» is what my therapist said
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| But my case seems worse, when I’ve barely been fed
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| Because the kitchen’s too far to desire the steps
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| It’d take to make it down the stairs and try to find a baguette
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| Or something similar that wouldn’t make my stomach upset
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| It doesn’t feel like this is real, yeah, my mind is a mess
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| The only times it seems clear is when music is played
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| Some relatable creator says I’ll soon be okay
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| Or when reading poetry and trying to soothe the dismay
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| And I can lose my insecurities in cute little sayings, like
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| «Why frown when the sun goes down
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| If you’ll wake in the morning to such nice sounds
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| When the nighttime creeps, well your eyes might weep
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| But that’s moonlight tryna find nice people»
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| «Why frown when the sun comes 'round
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| Even if you feel shaken or upside down
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| When the daytime hits, you’ll be great, my friend
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| Just make it through this, just make it through this»
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| «Why frown when the sun comes 'round
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| Even if you feel shaken or upside down
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| When the daytime hits, you’ll be great, my friend
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| Just make it through this, you can make it through this» |