| I’m diseased
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| Struck with melancholy
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| And a deadbeat dad who never said sorry
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| I’m diseased, I’m diseased
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| The roots have poisoned the tree
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| So all I ask is that you take it easy on me
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| I’ve got a whole lot of questions that will never get answered
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| And a pair of slit wrists to match a heart filled with cancer
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| There’s a bastard in my blood that’s clawing to get out
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| But every now and again he escapes through my mouth
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| I wasn’t worth your time
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| But really I’m fine
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| I’ve been like this my whole life
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| Wrist always pressed to the knife
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| I’m swear I’m okay, I know everybody dies
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| I just wish we could have said our hello’s before we said our goodbyes
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| I’ll keep singing this lullaby
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| And try my hardest to not curse your name with tears in my eyes
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| Because I swear that I’m fine
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| I’m fine
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| I can’t miss what wasn’t mine
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| You were never my dad, and really that’s fine
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| A livid existence
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| Where my thoughts are constricted
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| Happiness restricted from a person gone missing
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| That’s a 10−57, and I’m a 10−56
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| So all I dream about is heaven, even though I’m sick
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| I’m a monster without a father
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| An embarrassment to my mother
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| So it’s no wonder that I’m going under
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| Why don’t you love your son?
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| Your pride and joy, I love you dad
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| Why don’t you love your son? |