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my health has been decreasing like the oil in the reserves,
like the spirits in the liquor cabinet in my room.
and it's not the way that it leaves,
it's the way my love's received
that makes this half-empty glass feel three-fourths full.
and that's the way i lost my soul, in a maze of maize and snow.
it's okay, though, in the silence of the winter's frozen glow.
if you're self-inflicted feet still fit the shoes,
make sure they're tied tight.
like the spirits in the liquor cabinet in my room.
and it's not the way that it leaves,
it's the way my love's received
that makes this half-empty glass feel three-fourths full.
and that's the way i lost my soul, in a maze of maize and snow.
it's okay, though, in the silence of the winter's frozen glow.
if you're self-inflicted feet still fit the shoes,
make sure they're tied tight.
because it has nothing to do with me or you, just time.
in my name i search for reasons for your silent gown
that you wear so often and so early let down.
would you just talk for this one second
and tell me what it is
that prevents you from letting anyone under your skin.
well your eyes leak like faucets.
when they keep you up all night,
will they drown you like the wars you tried to fight?
and if your days are such a panic,
in some pursuit for sex and sadness,
well the mess this is good luck cleaning it up.
and if you're self-inflicted feet still fit the shoes,
make sure they're tied tight.
because it has nothing to do with me or you, just time.
i wish they had a name for this
'cause baby, all i got is oranges. and i'm glad they don't have a pill for this
'cause i'm reaping up the roots of your sadness.
and i wish they had a pill for this
'cause baby, all i got is oranges.
and i'm glad they don't have a pill for this
'cause i'm reaping up the roots of your sadness.
and your burden's like a burden.
you know the world from their view, but not in words.
so high up on your high horse.
and you're wise and ruined since you became fluent
in that language of patience.
gonna wait so long for to sing it in a song
all the projects you put off-
like me, like school, like a family.
all your love's blowing up a bomb.
and if your self-inflicted feet still fit the shoes,
make sure they're tied tight.
because it has nothing to do with me or you, just time.
in my name i search for reasons for your silent gown
that you wear so often and so early let down.
would you just talk for this one second
and tell me what it is
that prevents you from letting anyone under your skin.
well your eyes leak like faucets.
when they keep you up all night,
will they drown you like the wars you tried to fight?
and if your days are such a panic,
in some pursuit for sex and sadness,
well the mess this is good luck cleaning it up.
and if you're self-inflicted feet still fit the shoes,
make sure they're tied tight.
because it has nothing to do with me or you, just time.
i wish they had a name for this
'cause baby, all i got is oranges. and i'm glad they don't have a pill for this
'cause i'm reaping up the roots of your sadness.
and i wish they had a pill for this
'cause baby, all i got is oranges.
and i'm glad they don't have a pill for this
'cause i'm reaping up the roots of your sadness.
and your burden's like a burden.
you know the world from their view, but not in words.
so high up on your high horse.
and you're wise and ruined since you became fluent
in that language of patience.
gonna wait so long for to sing it in a song
all the projects you put off-
like me, like school, like a family.
all your love's blowing up a bomb.
and if your self-inflicted feet still fit the shoes,
make sure they're tied tight.
because it has nothing to do with me or you, just time.
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