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And the days burn into one box of my eyes
Only things I've never done
She's her swaying from her own clothesline
Like a row of captured, gross and olden grass
It's never much, but we've made our bones
We'll go home
Chips are launching from my chest
Some of my veins, but most do not even want to breathe
Let me know what piece I've lost
Feel the scars from off my back
I don't need them anymore, you can throw them out
Give me your mace and chores, I've come home
All my nightmares escaped my hand
What a door, please don't let them in
We were never supposed to leave
Now my head's bleeding out of the sea
And I don't know if I can
Give me your mace and chores, I've come home
I don't need them anymore, you can throw them out
Give me your mace and chores, I've come home
