| Intro:
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| Celine: You know what’s going on here? |
| It’s simple. |
| I don’t think I love you
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| anymore
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| I. Soupherb
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| Looking like he’s staring across the street
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| One hand in his pocket, other holding cigarette
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| Rubbed his head on his forearm, mind on regret
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| Trying to figure out when they started losing steps
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| Spending his night flying solo
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| How many bottles more? |
| It felt like a chokehold
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| Haven’t stepped home since hours ago
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| But how is it home if love goes when heat blows?
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| Took flights to readers and hoes, how did she know?
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| Didn’t give a damn anymore, she stormed off and he just let her go
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| Like the wife and kid replaced
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| 'Cause one thought he needed a happy place
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| But it’s still the same old phase in a different case with an older face
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| Definitely not like a few or twenty years back
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| Forced to squeeze out what’s left in their tank
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| Sweeties, don’t worry, take a rest
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| Mommy’s still there struggling to do her best
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| She’s taking them to grandma, too much stress
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| Instinct running on what to do next
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| But most likely too busy |
| Painfully reminiscing to pay attention
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| Missing that young guy with the sweet aggression
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| Well, guess those two occasions were trying to say something else
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| One: you’re not meant for each other
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| Two: I said you’re not meant for each other
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| Thought of moving somewhere far with her mother
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| To rip the old and move onto the next chapter
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| Hoping that he won’t come after her
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| Down on one knee to beg while playing father
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| Wondered why he didn’t think of their daughters
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| Feeling too numb to show face, give closure
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| II. |
| Kensa
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| Blood in the flowers of a perfect love abandoned
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| Passion’s in the twilight zone of a night ocean
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| Broke apart when she pulled the intravenous drip
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| Now the prospect of forever is a broken pinkie finger
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| He contemplates his end, knowing he’d never get better
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| Penning a suicide note in the form of a love letter
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| Reconstructing all his bad patterns 'til she left
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| It felt the same as mourning for the loss of a friend
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| Consumed by the frenzy of his own codependence
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| She learned how to abandon when she’s constantly abandoned |
| Now he’s back to smoking away a pack and half a day
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| And he embraced the alcoholic daze as his default state
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| Just one night lost all of its magic
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| They were destined to be incinerated sungrazing comets
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| Burn the photographs 'cause I don’t want you in my head
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| If the full eclipse is matrimony bleeds itself to death
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| I know that you’re exhausted to love and be unloved
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| And I confess to the crime, I know it can’t be undone
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| I’m sorry that I lacked the needed courage to accept
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| What I took for granted, now you had the courage to reject
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| The language of romantics is lost in translation
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| We only said «I love you» as a way of our tradition
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| Exploited all my sorries 'til you got accustomed with apologies that it’s no
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| longer an essential part of me
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| Leave me in this rotting condition that I deserve
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| I’m not supposed to feel alive at the mercy of your words
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| Spoken tragedies turned taciturn
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| Now the photographs are burning to the point of no return
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| I am setting you free into the moonlight
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| Take flight with those angelic wings, forgiveness ain’t divine |
| And as the moon rises in the quiet of the night sky
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| The promise of eternity vanished for a lifetime
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| Don’t resuscitate me with your cryogenic lasers
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| Let me plunge into the realm of my psycho-fatalism
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| All remaining light is snatched away by the shadows
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| I can no longer hear the singing of the dead sparrows
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| Forsaken by the universe who never gave an answer
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| As to why I shouldn’t be the victim of this cancer
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| It’s the first stain since our immaculate conception
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| The little demons in my head declared an insurrection
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| And I’m trapped in despair with pain and affliction
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| So suspend me in the air and execute my crucifixion
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| Set the cross on fire 'til the ashes turn black
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| There is no final revolution that’ll end in getting her back
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| Now I’m all alone in what was once a happy home
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| Ten years of marriage, no shit is set in stone
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| In the end, I’m just a name scribbled in her death note
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| What was once a livewire, what is now a dead ghost!
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| (Dead ghost, dead ghost, dead ghost…)
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| Outro:
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| Patrick Wilson: You’re good… you’re so good, you’re so fucking good, |
| you’re just like her. |
| You’re just like her. |
| You’re all just fucking like her!
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| You wanna drive a man fucking crazy! |
| Then go, go with your fucking mind!
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| Go your fucking way! |
| Go! |