| I was 22 when I first died
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| But in the darkest dark, I saw no light
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| And it was blinding just how dim it got
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| It was a cold I thought could never come
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| And I had hurt before but not like this
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| It was the strangest struggle I had ever hit
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| And I was useless to the world around me
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| To barely gather up the strength to say:
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| «Save me
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| When the rivers run dry
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| Bring me where the waters run deep
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| Where the eyes cannot see»
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| It was 25 and I died again
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| And I prepared myself for what the world would send
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| Cause I had felt this darkness wrap around me
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| And through its strangle I could barely beg:
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| «Save me
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| When the rivers run dry
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| Bring me where the waters run deep
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| Where the eyes cannot see»
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| I won’t forget about all the pieces I’ve lost
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| I won’t forget about all the pieces I’ve lost
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| I’m nearing 29 and I haven’t died
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| And I’m done with cursing at the skies
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| And I remember how my mother spoke when she said
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| «Son, don’t be afraid to call on those who love you most»
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| (Save me)
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| When the rivers run dry
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| (Bring me)
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| Where the waters run deep
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| Where the eyes cannot see |