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Gray is not the color I expected |
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On someone who is often touched by grace |
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The eyes that hold the promise of perfection |
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Will find the flaw that no one can erase |
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And though she hears the rumors of intention |
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And many times I've failed to hide my stare |
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She will not breach a hint of indecision |
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She will not ever bend to show her care |
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Things she said |
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Every other daystore promise |
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Things she said would leave me wanting |
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Run to her, then run from other |
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Things she said |
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Broke me down and left me shattered |
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Hard as diamonds, it does not matter |
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Won't remember the things she said |
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Today I saw her face in all the papers |
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A smile to empty out a lion's cage |
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But notes that might remind her what that smile was for |
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Are scribbled on a long-forgotten page |
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Things she said |
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Every other daystore promise |
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Things she said would leave me wanting |
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Run to her, then run from other |
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Things she said |
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Broke me down and left me shattered |
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Hard as diamonds, it does not matter |
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Won't remember the things she said |
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The choice she never made |
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The face she never saved |
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The words she would not say |
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The lives she threw away |
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And the things she said |
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So gray is not the color I expected |
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On one who is so often touched by grace |
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But always she's the specter of uncertainty |
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I first endure, then pity, then embrace |
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Things she said |
|
Every other daystore promise |
|
Things she said would leave me wanting |
|
Run to her, then run from other |
|
Things she said |
|
Broke me down and left me shattered |
|
Hard as diamonds, it does not matter |
|
Won't remember the things she said |
|
Things she said |
|
Every other daystore promise |
|
Things she said would leave me wanting |
|
Run to her, then run from other |
|
Things she said |
|
Broke me down and left me shattered |
|
Hard as diamonds, it does not matter |
|
Won't remember the things she said |