Cutting holes in the back of my eyes
To make room for all the black skies
That i can't see
And can't see me
Making friends with some kids from a new town
Buried bodies coming up from the ground now
I am dead, or dying
I am tired of trying
Now
Spent a month living out on the east coast
Made me realize just who I love most
And that's not you
That's not you
Well I'm sorry for the things that I said, dear
But you and I were left in last year
And now we're gone
We've been for so long
I've come to terms with the fact that I'm dying
And my lungs are turning black from the smoking
But I am not afraid
No I am not afraid
Writer(s): Nicholas Stutsman
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