My time was on your time if you were on your own time. Your sleep stole my mind.
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A fear in circles through waiting around. But now, it's over.
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And we aren't always ourselves.
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And even after it hurts worse we still make the same mistakes.
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Burnt out on being burned and a broken heart always...
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Just another empty night with nothing more to kill than time.
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I fall in love too easily.
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I reorganize myself into cliches to miss you.
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With written one-sided scripts of us talking to work out perfect in the end.
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A divorce invented through window shops and dressed up girls playing games on circuit cables.
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The loneliest cold year of sitting with myself and seeing you everywhere when you are gone.
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Nothing is ever what it was. Nothing was ever like I thought.
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Utah: The Whoopie Cushion Of America
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Curl Up And Die |