I open my eyes, but I still manage to dream
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This cold bathroom floor, now just feels like home to me
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I stumble to the mirror, and I naturally start to clean
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But my body's scorned with marks, that say "these aren't the last lines that I'll see.."
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So please cut this string, attached to my wrists
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Buried in my shaking palm, I hold this evil in my fist
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I relive my pain, with every scar
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It's a battle field of memories, that just won't go away, for me....
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This world has tied me down, and the knot keeps tightening
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Cause I'm just a puppet, dangling from this breaking string
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But maybe I'll turn, this blade the other way
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And roll up my sleeves to let the scars show my mistakes
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You couldn't make the cut, so now you'll make this cut....
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I can't breath, I'm in need, where's my crimson savior?
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No I won't crawl back just to bleed,
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Forgive me, I promise I'll stay clean
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If You Live By The Sword, You Die By The Sword
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Jamestown Story |