| I need to get out of this house
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| This whole city is haunting me
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| I cannot breathe within walls like these
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| Making me the weakling I am
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| What I remember is rain, always rain;
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| Always grey clouds in the morning sky
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| And this old shitty record player
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| Repeating the only record we had
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| You can’t imagine how loud we had to turn it
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| To drown out the father’s yelling;
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| Not to hear the mother’s weeping;
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| To be safe from the noise
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| A home, which was never our home
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| A king, who yelled and hurt and drank
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| A queen, who loved and wept and fell
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| Children, who cried and dreamed and sank
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| Your blood circling in my black veins
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| I am your flesh, you are my chain
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| I am the fruit of your sear tree
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| Just left to rot, never set free |