Walking under the powerlines will keep your thoughts buzzing in your ear. And getting lost on familiar streets, trying to walk off the memories of the last year. Finding comfort in the worst things: cigarettes and sleeping pills and being alone, but your shrunken lungs at your atrophy can't shake away that feeling of wasting away. If I'm walking out that door, then, please, please, please let me go, because I don't have the strength to fight anymore, and I'm already gone.


Lyrics submitted by sarahsaurusrex

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