| Teeth marks on the skin
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| The greatest trick the devil ever played was to take away my friend
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| I got your face engraved into my flesh
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| So I can try to make amends with that day I won’t forget
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| In Minnesota I flew in so that we could both record
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| Me and Kristoff Krane were supposed to go on tour
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| Nobody answered, we were knocking on your door
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| And when they carried out your body, I was staring at your shoes on the floor
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| Still the answers never come
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| Your funeral was beautiful, it captured what you loved
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| I sat there in a stupor, fractured by the hugs
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| That I gave your family members, growing sadder by the months
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| But I won’t dwell inside the ends
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| And that’s not what you would want, you would tell me find connections
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| To the world and to tell it my confessions
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| The hell that I invest in is a part of something bigger
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| Words that you would write, they would carve into the center
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| Right on target 'til they start to fill my heart up with the letters
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| Shadows have shadows and it’s darker than remembered
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| When this story has an ending to the part I had together with my friend
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| Absence makes the heart grow fonder of the time before the absence
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| And the nights spent trying to imagine
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| When you played I was blinded by the magic you displayed
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| I tried to reenact it in a way
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| I need the dark today to see the stars decay
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| Cause if I can fall asleep, then I can dream we are awake
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| Another shot of Jameson and PBR to chase
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| Another conversation in a seedy bar to play, right?
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| Man, this side of me’s the worst
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| When I’m terrified that all I’ll leave’s a dynasty of dirt
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| But you believed in me and I believed your words
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| So in turn, I believed in things when I would need the courage
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| To move on, on and on and on and on it goes
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| When I’m nodding off an awful lot to songs that you had wrote
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| I want to honor all the art and progress that you showed
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| I miss my confidant and honest talks allotted on the phone
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| With you Mike -- I wish that I could hug you again
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| It’s getting harder to pretend and I can’t undo what’s been
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| Thanks for being someone I could come to, a friend
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| I hope I make you proud -- I love you, the end
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| Isn’t a person just a collection of their mistakes, and also their, kind of,
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| undoing of their mistakes? |
| I mean, what else are you? |
| You know,
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| you’re always… you're always just the reaction to the bad parts of yourself,
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| I think. |
| And I think that’s what is kind of like, a driving motivation behind
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| any human being that’s…who wants to continue to grow and live life.
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| ‘Cause they’re looking at their flaws and trying to, go beyond it.
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| And I think that a person, you know, essentially dies when they think that
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| they found themselves, ya know? |
| Unless you want to admit that you, yourself,
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| are not an individual, and are just part of a whole… movement of ideas,
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| and thought, and culture, and humanity and, furthermore, the universe,
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| and everything -- unless you really feel like that, and you’re walking through
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| walls, you know, you are always trying to find yourself. |
| And it’s usually a
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| person who believes that they’ve found «the answer» -- found «the end» -- that
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| there actually is a psychological end. |
| And then what’s the point of, you know,
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| doing anything after that? |