| All that lightning in my head last night hit all the parts I prayed it wouldn’t
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| But I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried
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| So now I’m wandering around that building site even though I know I shouldn’t
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| But I just need to find anything that will make me feel alive
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| And the wind, it was bricks
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| And the rain, it was knives
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| If it could knock me out and cut me down to size
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| Then I might be alright
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| I’m trying not to think too hard about another potential year
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| Of counting miles of sadness while hopes of happiness disappear
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| I can’t fall asleep in the back seat but there’s always just enough room in here
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| To make sure that my crooked spine’s not the only thing that feels out of place
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| As I desperately try not to forget your face
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| How many more years can I keep on chewing with one side of my mouth
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| And telling myself that the sky’s the limit when it’s all plummeting south?
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| Well, there’s always hope
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| Be it false or not
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| There’s always hope
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| Be it false or not
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| There’s always
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| I hope all those shots fired in my skull tonight hit all the parts I fucking
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| aim for
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| Because I’m getting so tired of being awake
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| And with each and every day that your beauty fades, my ugliness is amplified
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| Then it’s back to square one, struggling through the day
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| Back to square one, struggling through the day
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| Back to square one, struggling through the day |