| It’s piling up, a constant hunger I’ve been yearning for so long
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| You’d start to think that I’d be used to this, with every problem I dwell on
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| I’m still suffering, is this what I need?
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| A new love for a false sense of peace
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| Justify the sad excuse, of a stranger I call «me»
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| A stranger I call «me»
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| And if you pull the heartstrings, while closed in with clipped wings
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| I couldn’t be enough for anyone when I hate myself
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| I’ll pretend that I’m okay like this
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| But you can tell by my tone of voice
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| It’s not up to choice for getting out of this bed I’m in
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| Staying dormant in dark places I fall right back in
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| I concealed the guilt, tearing down any love I built
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| Now I’m wearingthin
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| I’m letting go, as you’re slipping (feel it all cave in)
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| Will all this pain be useful someday?
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| Pessimism finds its way, to keep seeping through my veins
|
| And if you pull the heartstrings, while closed in with clipped wings
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| I couldn’t be enough for anyone when I hate myself
|
| The peace offering doesn’t mean anything
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| When all I see are these insecurities, making me my enemy
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| I’m all worn down
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| I can’t wait this out
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| My mental health is defeated now
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| And I heard the sound
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| In this broken house
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| The memory serves me well
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| Please, could you pick up the phone?
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| I’d say it all, I’d make it known
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| That I’m not what I seem
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| That you’re everything in between someone who’s leaving
|
| And if you pull the heartstrings, while closed in with clipped wings
|
| I couldn’t be enough for anyone when I hate myself
|
| The peace offering doesn’t mean anything
|
| When all I see are these insecurities, making me my enemy
|
| And if you pull the heartstrings, while closed in with clipped wings
|
| I couldn’t be enough for anyone when I hate myself
|
| The peace offering doesn’t mean anything
|
| When all I see are these insecurities, making me my enemy |