| 4 weeks of epistaxis
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| The perfect combination of anxiety and dry air
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| Or maybe something worse?
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| Either way I’ll just ignore it like I did 3 years ago
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| I watched the rain for 2 hours this morning
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| Watched the sky turn from black to dark grey just like I used to
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| While you were fast asleep
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| For 2 weeks you woke up in tears and said you couldn’t work out why
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| And for some reason it’s bothering me more and more as the years go by
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| I know that I’m to blame, but I swear I didn’t mean to make you cry
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| And I know that it was all just such an uphill struggle, until you turned and
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| walked the other way
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| (And I don’t blame you)
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| When I got to the top of those stairs
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| And opened up my eyes I thought that
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| I could deal with anyone, and I could deal with anything
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| But after a confused version of the best intentions I just made you feel like
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| shit
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| And I know that it’s my fault and I’ll have to live with it
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| Now every now and then I hear the phone ring, but I seldom answer
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| What would the point be? |
| Only to burden friends and family
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| With how I’m struggling, and how I’m lonely
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| And every now and then my ears stop ringing
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| And I can’t stand the silence
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| So I turn on the radio and stare out the window
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| And I try my best to remember the last time I saw leaves on those trees
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| I’ve given up on stopping all these nosebleeds
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| Just let the blood run and hope that I become so light headed that I pass out |