| Open the curtains.
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| Singing birds tell me «tear the buildings down»
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| You felt blessed to receive their pleasant sound.
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| Of things that break make you cringe inside yourself.
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| There’s a child counting stars in their time-out of their day.
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| In the corners of their frame they are encased
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| In the losing of a grain of themselves
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| Pushed against the ebb and flow.
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| Wave good bye and watch it go.
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| Well show me the honest proper way
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| To disarm predatory gaze
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| That’s sucking dry and never satiated.
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| You’ve been misused, been rewired.
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| You’re short-circuiting now.
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| Just remember when you’d call me to come,
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| Take a deep breath, and then jump.
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| So fragile are bodies,
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| So concave, work in self-destructive ways.
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| You shot from the hip and missed.
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| Detaching from all of this.
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| In physical pictures you remain,
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| Spiral 'round yourself in figure-eight.
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| I recoil at every new beginning.
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| I searched for a way out. |
| Don’t we all?
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| Existentialist recall: turn in all
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| All dichotomies and truths that I gave.
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| I felt wrong in many ways. |
| Didn’t heal.
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| It just got harder everyday to be still,
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| To be passing through the throes in a daze,
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| Feeling heavy, feeling cold in my skin,
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| In my hand-me-downs. |
| I’m wearing everything thin.
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| And the pills that you gave didn’t do anything.
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| I just slept for years on end, fuck.
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| So if I call, should I beg?
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| Because I’m desperate here;
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| A couple steps from the edge.
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| I can’t seem to burn bright enough.
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| I’m cold and I’m left alone.
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| We’re all alone. |
| Grab a hold.
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| I know I said to not. |
| What the fuck do I know?
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| I had a chance to construct something beautiful and I choked
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| I choked, I choked, I choked |