| On this very day ten years ago
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| Your dress was stained, muddy white snot.
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| I plucked the flowers, gave the weed,
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| I don’t understand them, I climbed to kiss.
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| I wrote in your entrance that you are the best in the world
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| Crossed out that you're a whore and the number of your clients.
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| All my friends told me that I was very wrong
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| And now I curse the day when:
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| I turned around and you
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| Already dancing with someone else.
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| I don't burn bridges
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| I just fall off them.
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| The fire you lit
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| It doesn't burn at all anymore.
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| I would come home
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| It's a pity that my home is where you are.
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| I turned around and you
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| You dance at the disco with another.
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| I don't burn bridges
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| I stupidly fall from them.
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| The fire you lit
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| It hasn't burned for a long time.
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| Would you come home
|
| It's a pity that I closed the doors.
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| Saying goodbye is so hard, but
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| I take everything out the door.
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| Something shrank there, under the rib, but,
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| But it certainly isn't about you.
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| I know there's a rocket in there somewhere.
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| I imagine how I will fly away from the planet.
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| Layer by layer I leave the atmosphere
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| And I burn like it pisses me off.
|
| I turned around and you
|
| Already dancing with someone else.
|
| I don't burn bridges
|
| I just fall off them.
|
| The fire you lit
|
| It doesn't burn at all anymore.
|
| I would come home
|
| It's a pity that my home is where you are.
|
| I turned around and you
|
| Already dancing with someone else.
|
| I don't burn bridges
|
| I just fall off them.
|
| The fire you lit
|
| It doesn't burn at all anymore.
|
| I would come home
|
| It's a pity that my home is where you are.
|
| I turned around and you
|
| You dance at the disco with another.
|
| I don't burn bridges
|
| I stupidly fall from them.
|
| The fire you lit
|
| It hasn't burned for a long time.
|
| Would you come home
|
| It's a pity that I closed the doors. |