| You’re weak and tired
|
| It’s always a scent in the air
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| It seems you’re trying
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| To capture what’s not really there
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| And so, remember
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| The ones that you used up for gain
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| You’ll live forever
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| With no side effects of your shame
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| So run, get a little further away from me
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| Burn, a little bit of fire in your apathy
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| So rake, every little piece that you take from me
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| Don’t turn your back 'til there’s nothing that’s left of me
|
| The thirst has woken
|
| And nobody seems so aware
|
| The fakes and liars
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| Are newly elected as heirs
|
| Opine, and render
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| Your judgments from basements and chairs
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| Maligned, we fester
|
| It seems you’re all so self-aware
|
| So run, get a little further away from me
|
| Burn, a little bit of fire in your apathy
|
| So rake, every little piece that you take from me
|
| Don’t turn your back 'til there’s nothing that’s left of me
|
| Can you feel it going down?
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| Is it lost to your attention?
|
| Break the seal and drink it down
|
| Until you’ve lost your apprehension
|
| So run, get a little further away from me
|
| Burn, a little bit of fire in your apathy
|
| So rake, every little piece that you take from me
|
| So run, get a little further away from me |