So unaffectionate, so insecure
You claim to know a thing or two about heartache
And what it's like to have your insides torn out
And I believe you
I see it every time your pallbearer's palor is obscured by the darkness
Dancing across your face, and when the blackness veils your eyes in pain
I know what it's like when memories make you wince
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Remember, I went through the same thing.
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