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lyrics
Was raised to believe that hell's just for the people in my head.
Such a dear friend to me to make me believe it's where I'm living.
So so long fairweather friends, I'll see you when I'm feeling more eloquent
God willing then, I'll be easier to digest.
I hope you don't mind me
in the corner, losing sleep
as you step out the door to leave.
Goddamn, I need a cigarette,
anything for me to excuse my weighted chest.
I have lots of growing left, so please call me on it,
but in the end I think we could all be more honest,
so I cannot hold my head too high
if I'm trying to acknowledge all these faults of mine.
It's a process that never ceases to remind
just when I think I can leave my shadow behind.
In other words, I'm doing well.
I'm learning what care means without anyone else.
I don't blame you, I wish I could've left myself,
but my wrist is now clean and my thoughts are more clear.
I hope you will listen, but hope you won't hear me
tripping, stumbling, falling on deaf ears.
These issues aren't unique,
but it's so hard to not feel bleak
when I haven't slept all week,
but I still keep hanging on.
I will bear this heavy chest, let it rise and fall.
And maybe I'll grow out of it before I'm done,
but you won't catch me hedging me bets on it.
I just might be more effort than I'm worth.
I guess I can't blame you, but I can't say it doesn't hurt.
Won't say I'll make it up to you, but what I know for sure
is I'm thankful that you ever happened.
I'm still here. I'm still trying.
I still fear that I'm lying and it's really not fine.
supported by 78 fans who also own “Portrait of a Man on a Couch With Cats”
I love mom jeans. It immerses myself in those unforgettable feelings and makes me weep, and I smile as the trumpet starts to play. How wonderful. zhangzhanglang