Clementine
My Iron Lung
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My blood is boiling up
right to the back of my eyes
Too many knots in my throat
I couldn't speak if I tried
I wouldn't know what to say
Congratulations
I guess
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That means no more phone calls
Or "I love you, goodnight,"
And I'm glad you moved North
So I won't hear you're doing alright
Three years of my life
The best years of my life
Now I feel like Joel Barish, need you erased from my mind.
Need you erased from my mind.