| She said it with a pound to the chest
|
| As she regretted every effort
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| When she found it was death
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| Door knocking from the sound of the flesh
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| On the ground he was left in soaked cotton
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| God has counted his breath
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| And now He got him on a mountain of steps
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| With the mouths of his friends
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| Saying mom where did he go and how will we live
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| It’s an hour like this you can’t prepare for
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| Ordering flowers and gifts he won’t be there for
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| «I'm a basket case,» she say
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| In a casket case he lay
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| Love in a plastic kiss he fades away
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| Into the depths of the earth
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| With the rest of his birth
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| He has left us at church
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| It’s the best and the worst
|
| When singing to the blessed and the cursed
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| These are the things that have left us hurt
|
| Hands bursted veins mans words can’t skirt the pain
|
| Her plans burn in reverse the blame gets rehearsed
|
| In exchanging eyes she wonders
|
| If she could have changed his mind
|
| Stained windows stood and framed a sky
|
| That changed little couldn’t name the time
|
| The remaining cry
|
| Can you remember
|
| Can you remember
|
| Can you remember
|
| Can you remember
|
| The rain, the rain, the rain, the rain
|
| Under the skies broken thunder when her eyes open
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| Wondering how someone inside could find hope
|
| When her mind can barley cope with the understanding
|
| Scary cus her time was as close as his
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| When the underhanded reached for her
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| Funny how he would speak for her
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| Money was only an object
|
| When running streaks tore her nose lining
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| Shed doze off with no whining
|
| Wake up to the sound of blow coughing
|
| And Ghost rhyming
|
| Most of the time when people seek to find their life force
|
| Its just before the reaper finds them
|
| Beaten by the white horse
|
| Or leaking from the eyes or sleeping with a white cross
|
| Or weakened when they realize its their time for lights off
|
| Cus then the mics off and there is no performing
|
| And he writes you off with no warning
|
| Except for the rain that will fall from the cloud
|
| That is called to your brow to remind you of the day
|
| At his grave when you swore you would change
|
| And all of the pain withdraws that will call you again
|
| Will be drawn into an autumns wind
|
| Knowing he sold his life for it but you never bought in
|
| Can you remember
|
| Can you remember
|
| Can you remember
|
| Can you remember
|
| The rain, the rain, the rain, the rain |