What can be scraped together, from our long worn emotions?
Handfuls of hate and a bittersweet devotion...
Cuz i am pushing cobwebs, and I'm folding into myself
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
How could the clouds tease us into thinking it might rain?
How could the need deceive us into thinking things might change?
I had a mean sleep over you
And it hurts coming back to life
You could burn a thousand days and I would need no other light
You could die a thousand ways and I'd still love you back to life
Without a lover to wake me,
And my loneliness like quicksand,
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
How could the clouds tease us into thinking it might rain?
How could the need deceive us into thinking things might change?
I had a mean sleep over you
And it hurts coming back to life
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