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lyrics

My favorite things aren't my favorite anymore, and my favorite people aren't either. I'm getting so old and I've got nothing to show. I'm not a kid anymore, so why does it have to feel like I've lost my fucking home? I don't know where I've been, but I'm awake now, and I won't let you make me this lonely again.

Cos I don't know who I am, stuck on tired and sad. But I could slit my wrists like a leaking oil field, and I can shoot me down, shoot me down, faster than you thought you could. I don't know who I am, I don't know don't know who I am.

The way your floorboards creaked at 4am makes me miss the words that we slept in, and it's a chronic dependency on the fact that I can reach lunacy with a clock and some arms. I'm stuck in a middle low, with a high blow, and I can't put the sense down onto my goddamn brain without missing pieces and parts I meant to bring.

Cos I don't know who I am, I don't know don't know who I am, I'm stuck on tired and sad. But I could slit my wrists like a leaking oil field, and I can shoot me down, shoot me down, faster than you thought you could.

And I'm sick of trying, I am sick of trying, I am sick of tttrying, but I think, but I think, but I think I'm going to be fine. But I think, but I think, but I think i'm going to be fine.

credits

from Watery Eyes​/​/​Better Years, released April 14, 2015

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noralee. Fort Worth, Texas

putting out ukulele sad time jams.

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