| You were awakened
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| I was never asleep
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| I was just drilling some holes in my head that perpetually bled
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| You fed your senses
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| I made art of myself
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| I drew bear claws on my chest and third eyes on my head looking down
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| It was live, it was all live
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| Ammunition in the gun
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| And I meant it, every bullet, and I hope they all stung
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| Because that’s what I deal with every time I lift up the back of my shirt and I
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| show you
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| What you drew that night with a Swiss Army Knife saying «it was only maps of
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| constellations»
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| Your hands were shaking
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| Mine were stiff as stones
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| They said grab a hold
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| We said fuck off, we’ll find our way home
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| My blood was burning
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| Yours was spilling out
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| We said we’d fly to the end of the earth just to find ourselves
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| Oh
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| And your heart, it was not there when I needed it the most
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| I was floating, It was grounded, getting buried
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| Too deep to stay close
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| And I swore I’d dig it up someday, build a fire just to keep it warm,
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| Then we’ll get off the ground and drink rain from the clouds and go dance out
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| in the storm
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| Oh-hoh
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| (Woo!)
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| Oh, because birds we fly together
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| I feel tethered, de-feathered, and weathered
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| A push at its best would get me out my nest then I’ll never come home
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| It was love, it was true love
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| Not that shit sold from Hallmark, Hollywood, or Wal-Mart
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| I’m losing twelve years worth of soul mates
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| And it’s harder and realer than anything I’ve ever felt |