| My eyes are made of winter and these hands I hold are skin and bone
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| Oh oh
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| Our bedsheets thrown, the meals gone cold
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| I know you, I know you of old
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| Oh oh
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| Pray for me oh children pray for what I’ve I’ve I’ve I’ve done
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| I’ll haunt the very wrinkles of your skin
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| Pray for me, I’ll run until I begin to understand
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| What holy men really mean when they speak of sin
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| Oh oh
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| Pray for me cos I won’t pray for you
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| Oh oh
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| Pray for me cos I won’t pray for
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| I won’t, I won’t pray for you
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| If you knew all that I’d done
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| The words that shone are all but gone
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| Oh oh
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| The hearts I’ve broken, the minds I’ve woken
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| Sweet nothings are screamed not spoken
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| Oh oh
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| God made all man in his image
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| Honey I’m I’m I’m no man
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| I’m what’s left when children go to war
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| Run from you, I’ll run until I begin to understand
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| What holy men really mean when they speak of sand and sons and seams and
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| symphonies and sweat and sex and sin
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| Oh oh
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| Pray for me cos I won’t pray for you
|
| Oh oh
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| Pray for me cos I won’t pray for
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| I won’t, I won’t pray for you
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| Pray for me oh children pray for what I’ve I’ve I’ve I’ve undone
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| I cannot sleep if all you do is cry
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| Pray for me, I’ll run until I begin to understand
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| What holy men really mean when they speak of all that’s been and all that won’t
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| And all you do and don’t
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| And why you cannot sleep for sighing
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| Why womanhood is more than crying
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| I’m stronger now than you have ever known
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| The cracks you made I fill with mortar
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| A broken pot can still hold water
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| Symphonies and sweat and sex mean nothing when you are obsessed
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| With sin and soil and strength and song and all the words that came out wrong
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| and him |