When the clocks break down i'll be dead set against
the second-hand slide to the beat in my chest
i'll be the last one standing, i can still resist if i want to


when the lights burn out
at the back of the clu.
we'll feel the bugs crawl out
from the crowd
and the walls will sweat
'cause the burnt-hot breaths all want to.

it brings me right back to
everything that i've lost from you

i can't think it's over
i can't see this through
i won't wait for everything
to fall down on you

when the air gets thick from the ciggeretes
and the words slow down to avoid regrets
i'll be proud owner of the picket fence i built with you

it brings me right back to
everything that i've felt for you

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