| You can call this coming clean or the repeat of what you know
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| About the struggles I once had as I’m learning to let go
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| I made a pledge to myself, if I was to raise my voice
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| To be direct as I can be no matter what I may destroy
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| But I can’t say I haven’t aged
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| I’ve outgrown what I used to be
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| I won’t fake what is expected
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| To succeed with album three (that's not me)
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| Does this mean that the words won’t come?
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| Does this mean that I’m at my end?
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| If my joy comes with the price of my love
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| I won’t pay if I have to pretend
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| There’s always a chance to relapse and fall back
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| To the person I still fear is there
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| So if this ink will suddenly run out
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| I’ll refill if I feel the need to share
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| It was the fall of last year in New York City
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| Day two of a tour, when my friend Johnny said
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| «Hey, I’d like you to meet Andy»
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| We got to talking and connected on some things
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| Mutual friends and how his band started writing
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| But then something was spoke
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| I knew exactly what he meant
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| I understood when he said
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| «It's hard to write content»
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| And it still is, and it still is
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| But I won’t take a step back
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| Though it might be for the best
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| And it still is, and it still is
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| I know you asked for some advice
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| They use your blood to capitalize
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| So give up all your secrets
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| To move units, display your weakness
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| You might spend some years alone
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| At the price of forgetting your home
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| So expose what hurts you the worst
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| The exchange deals a handsome return (are you in?) |