| This is a place I know too well
|
| Been down here a while if you can’t tell
|
| And I have analysed and tried my best to justify
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| The sorrow I have brought upon myself
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| Am I addicted to the misery? |
| Is this how I’ll always be?
|
| Grinding the salt into every wound
|
| Am I in love with all my ailments, glutton for punishment?
|
| You can’t trust me to be there for you
|
| I thought I had this, I thought I had this all figured out
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| You’d think I’d learned from all the shit I fucking screamed about
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| When there was sun, I couldn’t see for the clouds
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| Still climbing the walls of this well just to dive back down
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| Until I reached my rock bottom
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| Down to the marrow, bringing up the bad blood I’d forgotten
|
| Is it me that’s making me sick?
|
| Been burning both ends of the wick
|
| Am I addicted to the misery? |
| Is this how I’ll always be?
|
| Grinding the salt into every wound
|
| Am I in love with all my ailments, glutton for punishment?
|
| You can’t trust me to be there for you
|
| I’ve got this cold black silhouette hanging like a marionette
|
| Casting a shadow, a shade over me
|
| Just a sick, sad, sorry mess, living like a masochist
|
| Your worst impressions were right about me
|
| Your worst impressions were right about me
|
| Your worst impressions were right
|
| I could ask you to stay if you’re feeling forgiving
|
| I could live with the guilt if you call this living
|
| I could try to memorise each grain of sand
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| As it slips through my fingers and falls from my hands
|
| It took me longer than I’d care to admit
|
| This life is only what I choose to make of it
|
| And the only thing standing in between happiness and myself
|
| Was this depression I held so close to my chest
|
| Am I addicted to the misery? |
| Is this how I’ll always be?
|
| Grinding the salt into every wound
|
| Am I in love with all my ailments, glutton for punishment?
|
| You can’t trust me to be there for you
|
| I’ve got this cold black silhouette hanging like a marionette
|
| Casting a shadow, a shade over me
|
| Just a sick, sad, sorry mess, living like a masochist
|
| Your worst impressions were right about me
|
| Wasting a waning youth
|
| Waiting for something to help me pull through
|
| I never saw the sun through the clouds
|
| I lost faith when the skies were falling down |