| We are all suffers of love
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| Waiting for the rains to come
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| Hoping they flood away the pain
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| Some stable, some not safe to say
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| But were all wishing that death would call or scream
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| Each and every name
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| So here I am, praying for the rains to come
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| Hoping they flood away the pain
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| With the smell of smoke and plastic gin
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| Washed over my head and past my knees
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| I slowly wait to be erased
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| We are all like specks of dust that happen
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| To collect in the same shining ray of sun
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| And the golden hue that cast right
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| Through some old man’s living room
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| While he sits all alone in overtones
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| Accents of smoke and nicotine
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| A calming subtlety to compliment the clipper ships
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| And the paintings he has hung
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| Well we all float and live by chance
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| He just sits and stares and laughs at The shadows we create and then you leave
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| Then you leave
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| (Then you leave)
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| Just like god when he abandoned all of us With the punishment of love
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| And then you leave
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| And the devil feeds misery
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| (Then you leave)
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| Apparent to our loves so it will settle in our lungs
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| Then you leave
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| Then you leave
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| Then you leave
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| Then you leave
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| Then you leave
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| Then you leave
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| Then you leave
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| Then you leave |