| Cold and fever wrap disease around your neck
|
| Here’s hemostats to stop the flow of blood
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| Summer freckles hide the roses on your cheeks
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| Does heaven keep a place for her inside?
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| Breathe till it freezes
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| Colors carry phantoms to their graves
|
| What leaks in will seep out
|
| The run-off from a gutter tells the story of our child
|
| The message in the water
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| «The kids are going home tonight»
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| I know the voice of orderly all too well
|
| Call the parents on theirs cell phones
|
| You see, they need to get get here right now
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| 'Cause there is an angel in the place of the boy next door
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| I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news
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| Something’s in this room tonight
|
| Something’s in this place
|
| And I’m right here waiting
|
| And I’m right here
|
| Something’s in this room tonight
|
| Death has found escape
|
| And I’m right here waiting
|
| And I’m right here
|
| Look under the bed
|
| Look under the bed
|
| Stop striking matches to disguise the smell
|
| We all know, all day all night all we hear
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| Is blue bouncing through the walls
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| As Madre Santiago takes a knee
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| And she screams to the fluorescents
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| All our lives for this one night
|
| Our sleep can’t hide from you
|
| So take my dreams in place of me
|
| I reach my hand to you
|
| All our lives for this one night
|
| Our sleep can’t hide from you
|
| So take my dreams in place of me
|
| I reach my hand to you
|
| Something’s in this room tonight
|
| Something’s in this place
|
| And I’m right here waiting
|
| And I’m right here
|
| Something’s in this room tonight
|
| Death has found escape
|
| And I’m right here waiting
|
| And I’m right here
|
| Look under the bed
|
| Look under the bed
|
| Slip through the crack, a gathering of adults
|
| White skirts, blue-green scrubs, shaking their heads
|
| Stop pointing your fingers and making your rounds
|
| It’s not going to be me, it’s not going to be me |