I wouldn't mind being alone,
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if I could find a way for me to not be there.
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I just can't shake me.
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Bled being dry dry, a weight that broke my back.
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Back to an unhealthy habit(at). Back.
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You know that "message in a bottle"?
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Well I had to drink to get it out.
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I still can't decipher the code.
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There's so much more to shout about.
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I hate it when I breathe; I hate it when I'm me.
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I thought I could take a break.
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Don't you have more to shout about?
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Is that what made us friends?
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Is that what made me okay?
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Is that all there was to me?
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Back. And its a shame we view this as a loss of faith, or loss of trust.
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We've got all this time, but we've got no lives.
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-----------------
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Scapegoat Wets The Whistle
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As Friends Rust |