| Yesterday hell rain down
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| Another kid, another school, in another town
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| Think about how to tell my son
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| Think about how that one got a gun
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| There are mysteries down where the blood meets the bone
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| The loneliness there, wouldn’t leave him alone
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| But what if we try to reach him with words
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| What if we looked in his eyes and asked «where does it hurt?»
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| Would he find all he was worth?
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| Monday was hoping
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| But Tuesday’s broken
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| On the bed, feet up on the wall
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| Her eyes are red, and wet, and she wants to end it all
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| Easy to be mean on the screen, cowards call you names
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| She reads the lies and multiplies the hurt and shame
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| Man, it’s a numbers game
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| But there are mysteries down where the blood meets the bone
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| The loneliness there, it won’t leave her alone
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| But what if we try to reach her with words
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| What if we looked in her eyes and asked «where does it hurt?»
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| Would she find all she was worth?
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| Monday was hoping
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| But Tuesday’s broken
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| Like voices, won’t make a sound
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| We keep missing chances to turn it around
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| If somebody’s hurting right now
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| Open your mouth
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| What if we try to reach them with words
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| What if we looked in their eyes and asked «where does it hurt?»
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| Would they find all they were worth?
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| Monday was hoping
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| Don’t leave it unspoken
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| But Tuesday’s broken |