| Sitting in the kitchen at 4am with the light off
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| Trying to remember what it’s like to feel alive
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| Maybe if I go outside and attempt to retrace your steps around The Meadows
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| Then I might trigger something that will take my mind off
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| All these sandstone buildings and grey skies
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| That do their best to keep me dead
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| But never quite lock my feet to the ground
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| Now all my halfhearted goodbyes keep replaying in my head
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| Now that I’m barely ever around, and now that everyone is leaving
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| I stayed up until 5:20 and listened to the shipping forecast
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| To remind me of when I slept with a smile
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| But nowadays I barely sleep at all
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| I just lay awake with all these regrets
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| And let them burrow in and expand that hole in my chest
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| I never even knew that you had plans to go
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| I was too busy fighting myself to even know
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| So I guess this won’t be the last time that I’m breaking down on the Peace Mile
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| Now all these sandstone buildings and grey skies
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| Have got me by the throat
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| And there’s no other way to go but down
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| And all my halfhearted goodbyes
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| They don’t mean shit, they’re all redundant
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| Now that no one’s left around
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| My pulse is nowhere to be found
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| I’ve given up on color and sound
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| And buried my heart underground
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| I wonder if you’ll ever come back
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| But when does anybody ever come back |