| When you take me always I’ll carry over
|
| Always I’m over, my friend
|
| Cause it’s the only time my head’s out of water
|
| Treading this ocean, searching for sand
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| I wish I knew your hands like I knew I used to
|
| Between my fingers, run through your hair
|
| And it’s the same mistake we making in motion
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| Pretend you know this, I can’t pretend
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| Cause I’m sick of it
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| Always sick of it
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| Don’t come back
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| Is it the end?
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| The man with no skin, throw some salt and I’ma feel it
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| Small boy with some stilt, trick the world then they reveal it
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| Still love my mum the same way when I was young
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| But they try to pull me back from the ashes that we come
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| Lemonade spa bath, grenadine and lager
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| Can’t live inside my skin so I put myself in others
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| Pink paint vessel, red stained pedals
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| Another lonely night with some flesh tho I feel metal
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| Tin man correta, wings froze, jet setta
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| The apple of my eye, pray to god I never met her oh
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| Redefine the question, never let it grow
|
| See me chew the gun and I’ma let it
|
| I wish I knew your hands like I knew used to
|
| Between my fingers, run through your hair
|
| And it’s the same mistake we making in motion
|
| Pretend you know this, I can’t pretend
|
| Yeah I’ve been getting better at this sickness
|
| Dog days on mid strengths
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| We out smelling parks in falls of autumn when the season starts
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| I could rearrange my heart
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| These demon days got angel parts
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| So keep a blade on waste
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| But never waste your heart
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| She’s waiting, son
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| So dodge the coppers
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| Never dip on a promise
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| Hide your problems
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| You could die if you keeping honest
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| I’ve been tryna keep my loved ones closer to my chest and lungs
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| While lunging brew skies out the back, trying not to break for none
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| Yeah I know, I know you hate me
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| I cannot change what I have done
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| I know, I know I hate me
|
| I let the feeling pass and just bite my tongue
|
| When you take me always I’ll carry over
|
| Always I’m over, my friend
|
| Cause it’s the only time my head’s out of water
|
| Treading this ocean, searching for sand
|
| I wish I knew your hands like I knew I used to
|
| Between my fingers, run through your hair
|
| And it’s the same mistake we making in motion
|
| Pretend you know this, I can’t pretend |