| The Garden State
|
| Has never looked so pitiful and gray
|
| As I awake to the garbage left today
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| I hope they take all of my old mistakes
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| «Cause I can"t seem to shake them on my own
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| My eye it spins
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| When I look at the mirror glancing at the man I see
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| With anchors for his eyes
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| I build my castles up in the skies
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| So when it rains, they melt away with shame
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| Here I am Looking down at the bottom of the glasses
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| It"s all my fault that
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| I need a sign, like shooting stars
|
| To help connect the dots
|
| And turn my cuts into scars
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| All of my fears
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| Are getting checked by the medicine I take
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| All other guys just gather rumors of decent
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| There will be a riot in my heart soon
|
| It wants to be beneath the open sky
|
| Here I am Looking down at the bottom of the glasses
|
| It"s all my fault that
|
| I need a sign, like shooting stars
|
| To help connect the dots
|
| And turn my cuts into scars
|
| My regrets are what keep me still alive,
|
| I need to make up for the lies
|
| My regrets are what keep me still alive,
|
| I need to make up for the lies
|
| Here I am Looking down at the bottom of the glasses
|
| It"s all my fault that
|
| I need a sign,
|
| like shooting stars
|
| To help connect the dots
|
| And turn my cuts into scars
|
| Here I am Looking down at the bottom of the glasses
|
| It"s all my fault that
|
| I need a sign, like shooting stars
|
| To help connect the dots
|
| And turn my cuts into scars
|
| My regrets are what keep me still alive,
|
| I need to make up for the lies |