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The skies don't look so bright from here.
I tried to hold back my sweet tears.
I know they say grown men don't cry.
So I tried to hold it all inside until I die.
My body is a church...
*Doesn't the thought scare you, that I am untrue
to myself and my soul.
Just thought that you knew
that I was wrong.
And my thoughts were all fueled
by greed – here's my song, here's my song.
My head is filled with pews so my ideas sit
not because they want to, but because they're forced to it
by society's guilt and the illusion that they're clean.
So my hands pass pans filled to empty the sting
of my idea's short-comings.
My body is a church...
*
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2. |
Always Fall Through
07:16
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3. |
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