| You cut our ropes, left the umbilical
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| And now I carry around this weight of broken hope
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| And I can’t retrace and I lost my hold
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| And blame myself 'cause that is all I’ve ever known
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| And your face shows doubt
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| (When your head feels the wake of the sorrow)
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| Swore to me that you could live without
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| (Then the beg turns to take turns to borrow)
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| Help me down, I just want this out
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| (When you bend, when you break, when you follow)
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| So you cut me out
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| Then you cut our ropes, left the umbilical
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| And now I’m lost and I can’t take this path back home
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| Send a birthday card, leave a one-way note
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| I lied, I’m sorry, this isn’t easy, I don’t know
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| And you’d ask me to «open your walls to this»
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| But I’m scared, fingers broken
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| And ill-prepared to let this drag out
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| When you forgot the words to our song
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| When you can’t remember names, it’s been too long
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| When you stopped asking what was wrong
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| All the pressure built up it was too strong
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| (I can’t make this better
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| It fell out of my hands because
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| I just wasn’t built to hold on)
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| And I can’t remember names its been too long
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| And I can’t find your face in the crowd
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| I made a promise, said my eyes would stay shut
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| Through something called the scope of all of this rebuilding
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| I broke when I entered, displaced from the center
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| I can’t find my way around this
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| My wounds healed while my fingers fixed |