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lyrics
The past few nights I've been shying away from broken windows pale, reflections a little tooclose to home these days.
The past few weeks I've been avoiding all of my old glass friends, total clarity still brings me trouble.
The past few months I've been running something similar to scared, Philosophies of passing adolescence.
The past recedes, oh so quick and despite me, the little man in my stomach keeps on grumbling.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you.
Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, oh my god, I swear it's true.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you. Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, I swear!
I drink, I drink, to immortalize the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
I drink, I drink, to castrate the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
The past few nights I've been shying away from broken windows pale, convalescent are the eyes that try to meet my gaze.
The past few weeks I've been avoiding all of my old glass friends, even broken they still stand tall and call me brother.
The past few months I've been running something similar to scared, taking names from my old childhood ledger.
The past recedes, oh so quickly and despite me, the little man in my gut he keeps on screaming.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you.
Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, oh my god, I swear it's true.
Empty bottles and blurry nights, Lord I'm coming home to you. Misplaced teeth and faux-fistfights, I swear!
I drink, I drink, to immortalize the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
I drink, I drink, to castrate the past, I sing these sad songs to make sure that sorrow lasts.
There once was a God, but he was shot dead by a man, and while I know I don't know much, I trust in the lay of the land.
Counting down, counting down the days.
Passing through, passing through disgrace.
Now I know that old bottle, from the starving crow.
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