i'll try to describe the way that it felt to
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tell my own mother her son is a failure.
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his heart is too cold to love anyone but himself.
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it's like stabbing an icicle straight through your chest.
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your whole body shivers as it coarses your blood.
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and your quivering throat keeps
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choking on those words,
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mama i tried a thousand times
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i'm frozen to the core.
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your son is a glorious mess,
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who wrecks anything he adores.
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but deep in his center he swears
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there¡¯s a candle just waiting to burn. and melt.
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so who's gonna burn him
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yeah who's gonna break him
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into a thousand pieces
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melting over flames of perfection.
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i once felt its warmth,
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but it left me shivering in the dark.
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mama i tired a thousand times
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the pieces wouldn't fit.
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son, love is a punch in the eye.
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it¡¯s a sudden and swift surprise. i
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t's not a candle, its not waiting to burn.
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so baby, just wait your turn.
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and when it hits you,
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you'll see through rose colored apathy;
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through the blues that bruise can leave.
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was it really worth the wait?
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-----------------
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What We Fall for When We're Already Down
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The Good Life |