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Withered and stabbed by the hour and minute hands |
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left here for dead like a book on a shelf never read |
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and i shout, till the sound of my lungs give out |
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id do anything to hold onto the gift that you gave me only |
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when fiery pain takes its place in my veins |
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nerve endings burning the fingers that play |
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to the point where i cant think past the pain |
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ill bang out the six final chords of the pity refrain |
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gentleman gather and sing us the choral complain |
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children come sulk in the rain of the pity refrain |
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memories jaded your paintings will fade over time |
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and your face i cant place like a name you cant find |
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and i scream oh my god whats become of my mind |
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ill mumble out words of the pity refrain one last time |
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fine, ill resign |
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when fiery pain takes its place in my veins |
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nerve endings burning the fingers that play |
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to the point where i cant think past the pain |
|
ill bang out the six final chords of the pity refrain |
|
gentleman gather and sing us the choral complain |
|
children come sulk in the rain of the pity refrain |