| I get kinda angry at the sky
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| For making everything that I love die
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| I’ve gotten so bored of asking why
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| I’m still learning how to survive
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| No, I shouldn’t take it out on you
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| And you shouldn’t take it out on me
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| There’s a lot that we don’t know
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| And there’s a lot that we don’t see
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| And we’ll never find out now
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| And if we did it’d be too late
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| These days get heavier
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| I don’t care about my fate
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| I get kinda angry at the sky
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| For making everything that I love die
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| If I’m stuck on this ground for life
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| Then what good does it do if angels fly?
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| In the midst of the mystery, I still wonder if you miss me
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| And through all of the chaos, I still know what my name is
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| And in between all the questions, I found a nice little home
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| Where I have a few answers, that I made on my own
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| It’ll never make sense to me, but I don’t think that I want it to
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| If I could make sense of losing everything, I’d curse the truth
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| And no shiny door will open up, sitting on a cloud
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| I’ll lay down in the dirt until my soul’s ripped out
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| I get kinda angry at the sky
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| For making everything that I love die
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| If I’m stuck on this ground for life
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| Then what good does it do if angels fly? |