When I wake up on fire
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and get caught in the sheets,
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my dreams of safety hit the floor.
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I've heard the air raid too many times before
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to be bothered by the bombs.
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And you ask me why I'm holding on
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to what you're holding over my head.
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Well I am lost in the space you left between good and bye.
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And the butterflies
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get caught in my throat
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when they try to follow you away from me.
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I believe in healing
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but there is just no prize
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for whose head gets stuck the deepest in the sand.
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I believe in healing!
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Then Christ,
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just heal me!
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Don't even try to fix this with that face you make.
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I know just how you pout
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like a rainy day without a parade.
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-----------------
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Hemlock is the New Mistletoe
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| After The Sirens |