| Just take a look around, look what you’re leaving behind
|
| Get rid of the glare fused with lightning strikes, it burns me alive
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| Fold your arms, like sedatives and bleed it out
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| Not with your suicide, but with a dream
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| We’ll all sing
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| We’ll all hail the end
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| High hopes will burn that rope and bend the blade, just remember.
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| That broken chairs aren’t vessels for escape
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| They’re just reminders of what we waste
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| And all this talk of dying… take a look around
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| We all feel, like dying, sometimes
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| But the, courage to go on, to keep living
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| Is the more admirable choice
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| High hopes will burn that rope and bend the blade, just remember
|
| That broken chairs aren’t vessels for escape
|
| They’re just reminders of what we waste
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| All all is talk of dying, is. |
| just getting old…
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| Straight up
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| We are here
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| To give you, the chance
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| To turn your, broken hearts
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| Into smiles again |