| Walking outside the gates of winter cemetery
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| I wonder when my time will be spent beneath the dirt and leaves
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| As uplifting as that sounds, I’m not about to lay down and die
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| Still my heart beats to the tune of my uncertainty
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| So I try to make the most of my short time here
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| These run down side streets are dead ends of my insecurities
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| So I try to make the most my short time here
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| Our headstones won’t tell the story
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| They’ll just engrave the ending
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| (The end of you and me)
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| What difference will it make
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| (Still my heart beats.)
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| What will become of us
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| (Still my heart beats.)
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| What difference will it make
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| (Still my heart beats.)
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| What will come of us
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| Walking outside of the gates of winter cemetery
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| I wonder when my time will be to sleep beneath the dirt and leaves
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| As uplifting as that sounds, I’m not about to lay down and die
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| Just keep your eyes on the door
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| I’ll have an ear to the ground
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| (I'm not about to lay down and die.)
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| (I'm not about to settle now.)
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| Just keep your eyes on the door
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| I’ll have an ear to the ground and
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| We’ll be gone before the dust can settle |