The night has fallen down the staircase
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And I, for one, have felt its bruises
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Equilbrium; inebriated
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Our social graces have been displaced
|
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As we sink deeper into the drink
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The volume increases....
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Night time resurrects fault lines
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Silent wars -- rumble somewhere below
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The surfaces verses...
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The surfaces verses...
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The shoe is dropped, lungs explode
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Shards of words of a shattered voice
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And there's still a hole where the phone was thrown
|
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Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah...
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Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah...
|
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The moon is rising, a revolution
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I close my eyes and the room is spinning
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You're screaming:
|
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"Sweetie, the moon has raped me --
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It has left its seeds like a tomb inside me
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So I must learn to abort these feelings
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This romance is bleeding..."
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Night time triggers the land mines
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Bedroom wounds -- lovers like brigadiers
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Marching two by two...
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Marching two by two...
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A soldier's down
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Flood gates burst
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I've said some things I wish you'd never heard
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Like, "There's still a hole where the phone was thrown."
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It's growing as we speak
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And it's sucking us both in
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A vacuum of sorrow to swallow up the day
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-----------------
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The Casualty
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Cursive |