| I see you gripping tight to the rails of your hospital bed
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| You move so slow
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| You say the pain you feel is too great to be inside your head
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| I know, I know
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| You move so slow, yeah
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| It don’t mean anything to me
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| We start to die when we begin to breathe
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| But I’ll keep scratching at your sympathy
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| I’ll wander these white halls
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| Scale all the walls for a thread of hope
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| Wrap it around myself and cross my fingers I don’t choke
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| I’d pray if it meant anything to me
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| One day I’ll die and finally see what all the fuss is about
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| Prepare yourself for the big sleep
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| It don’t mean anything to me
|
| We start to die when we begin to breathe
|
| I’ll keep scratching at your sympathy
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| Until you’re good and ready to leave
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| Until you feel a lot like me
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| With curved eyes I smile
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| As a bad excuse sits next to you
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| Grinning, crooked teeth
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| They’ll all be gone soon
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| As the door handle swings
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| I’m having trouble hearing you
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| You think I’m crazy, don’t you?
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| Count your bones and clean 'em good
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| It’s come to this just like we knew it would
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| The world’s become a hospital
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| Will someone medicate us please?
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| I’d pray if it meant anything to me
|
| One day I’ll die and finally see what all the fuss is about
|
| Prepare yourself for the big sleep
|
| It don’t mean anything to me
|
| We start to die when we begin to breathe
|
| Come count your bones and clean 'em good
|
| It’s come to this just like we knew it would
|
| It don’t mean anything to me
|
| We start to die when we begin to breathe |