| I’m not afraid
|
| I’m not afraid to admit
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| That I’m terrified
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| Sc-scared to death of the end
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| When the finale comes and takes my breath away
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| And leaves me wanting more
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| The black swallows me whole
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| Swallows me alone
|
| But with the confidence of a death bed at least I refuse to let go
|
| But why
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| Why are you waiting for heaven to find you
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| When do you die
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| I said get busy living or get busy waiting
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| All the passion’s in the first draft anyway
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| All alone, that’s how we’re rushing in
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| I just assumed I’d see my, I’d see myself out
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| While I’m here, I pour myself a drink
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| And just get used to the room
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| Get used to the room
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| After all
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| It’s not where you are, it’s who you’re with finding peace
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| Peace and companion and
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| It’s not the sand it’s the mate
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| A life without love is a life that’s destitute
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| Why are you waiting for ghosts to drag you in the light
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| I said let’s get busy living or get bust writing
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| There’s no passion in revision, or didn’t you know
|
| All alone
|
| The black swallows me whole
|
| Swallows me alone
|
| But with the arrogance of a death bed at least I refuse to let go
|
| Why are you waiting for heaven to find you
|
| But why,
|
| Why are you waiting for heaven to find you
|
| Why do you die
|
| I said get busy living or get busy writing
|
| All the passion’s in the first draft anyway. |