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SEPTEMBER
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Cold as I can be, feel a damn thing Let me know, let me go home No I can’t be, or my family They don’t know, they don’t know Choke, let the man breathe Hold his hand please Lift the curse, let this work Cope like I am clean while I’m standing It's the first, September There's weight on my chest, I've been wreck I'm sick of this month and there’s 30 days left Still drinking too much and that much I confess Can't till if I'm stuck or just f**kin' depressed I can't slow down or open my mouth I always think it and nothing comes out I'm always sure till I'm swallowed by doubt I followed my dreams But somewhere things went south I don't touch base, I'd rather break I'd rather run and fall flat on my face How many more stories that all end the same You'll just ignore me and nothing will change Who's sick of my sh*t? Sick of the plot I'd rather end it than drag you along I'd rather you tell me than wait in the fog Get anything less and this wasn't my fault Cold as I can be, feel a damn thing Let me know, let me go home No I can't be, or my family They don't know, they don't know Choke, let the man breathe Hold his hand please Lift the curse, let this work Cope like I am clean while I'm standing It's the first, September
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