There are voices in the attic
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Wispy whispers past the cabinets
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Filled with tawny photographs
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I am stolid, I am steadfast
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Where there's panic, lingers relapse
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Oh, no; those breakdown days are done
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This house alive
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I can hear the floorboards breathe
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Creak, creak
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Are these angels come to take me?
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If so, I'll wave my white flag willingly
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I have shed my snake-skinned past
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Clustered flies hinder the windows
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For every angel there's a devil
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Oh no, make these voices go away
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I was a God-fearing boy
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Sure, I stumbled more than once
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But so did his begotten son
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An orphan, thrown out to the wolves
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Not prodigal, far worse
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I was hustled, I was scorned
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Made a criminal...
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But I stand here reformed
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There are voices in the dead of night
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A child screaming, "I am Gemini!"
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Oh, what are you, and why?
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Are you specter? Are you spirit?
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Am I lucid, am I losing it?
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Oh no, this macabre facade
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These walls, paper thin
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-----------------
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This House Alive
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Cursive |