| Make your way back home
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| To the other side of town
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| Or, anywhere I don’t come undone
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| But you hold my hand and you promise me
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| That we’ll be just fine when we fall asleep
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| You’ll be the one that holds me up
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| But, when you’re gone, it’s all just
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| Black holes, black sheets, black eyes, black clothes
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| Black cars, black streets, black skies, black holes
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| I’ll be the one that’s given up
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| Make my bed and leave
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| Soap and shower cleaned (?)
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| Tugging at my sleeve, «I need to leave.»
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| Hope you got that job at the bakery
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| It keeps escaping me, crazy me
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| Heard you coming home
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| You’ve been gone all week
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| I can feel the gaps like they’re missing teeth
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| You’re the one who keeps me up
|
| But, when you’re gone, it’s all just
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| Black walls, black sheets, black eyes, black clothes
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| Black cars, black streets, black skies, black holes (walls?)
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| I’ll be the one that’s given up |