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Brace yourself kid 'cause it never fucking stops.
We cut our hands of the ties that bind us.
Boxcars looming over the road at night, and I'm longing for the comfort of a bed I've grown to hate.
I swore two years ago, swore to god that I'd never shed another tear for this, now I'm gonna take that train across the night sky and away from you.
It's not easy to speak in these conditions and it's not easy to share a bed with you.
I can't sleep with these questions with these feelings I'm so scared to share.
Tommy said to me, "how you gonna live this way?" it doesn't phase me, at least an empty stomach is something real and it doesn't phase you to be back here.
So I'll do my best best to pretend with a clumsy attempt at a mast of stoic grace.
So throw on some old school and pass me back a smoke.
Regression over confession with no questions asked.
Four days on the road I guess I'm feeling alright.
Brace yourself kid, it's not gonna stop.
Cut your hands of the ties that bind you, and the next time someone asks why I live this way I'm just gonna say that I was no good at pretending.
It's been four days on the road and I'm feeling alive.
We cut our hands of the ties that bind us.
Boxcars looming over the road at night, and I'm longing for the comfort of a bed I've grown to hate.
I swore two years ago, swore to god that I'd never shed another tear for this, now I'm gonna take that train across the night sky and away from you.
It's not easy to speak in these conditions and it's not easy to share a bed with you.
I can't sleep with these questions with these feelings I'm so scared to share.
Tommy said to me, "how you gonna live this way?" it doesn't phase me, at least an empty stomach is something real and it doesn't phase you to be back here.
So I'll do my best best to pretend with a clumsy attempt at a mast of stoic grace.
So throw on some old school and pass me back a smoke.
Regression over confession with no questions asked.
Four days on the road I guess I'm feeling alright.
Brace yourself kid, it's not gonna stop.
Cut your hands of the ties that bind you, and the next time someone asks why I live this way I'm just gonna say that I was no good at pretending.
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