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The Garden
by
Briston Maroney
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I've been throwing stones at your window Praying hard the wind might blow me through, blow me through Talking to the friends that I don't have Why am I surprised they got no clue, got no clue If there is such thing as a heaven I just pray to God that I get there soon The devil made a call from a payphone stall, telling me not to talk to you If you look close you can tell those doing best ain't doing well Putting your demons up on the shelf only gives them time to themselves I dropped my worries in a wishing well, never hit the bottom far as I can tell The preacher's writing prayers that he thinks might sell, never found peace in holy hell If there is such thing as a heaven I just pray to God that I get there soon The devil makes a call from a payphone stall, telling me not to see this through This life's a test, infinite jest This pain that sits inside my chest, echos into emptiness And I sell my soul for a million dollars Jesus Christ, my heart's a mess But ain't that why you love me best Scream until there's nothing left, there's nothingness, there's nothing less Than people hanging in suspense Sins that they could not confess No we can't go on like this But the devil needs his witnesses My zealous overconfidence It looked so nice inside my head It's something that I cannot fix But baby, that's not mine to give away That's not mine to give away That's not mine to give away That's not mine to give away Ooh Ooh
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