Tuesday, 3:00am

Nita Whitaker

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    Tuesday, 3 am
    Once again I'm wide awake.
    Waiting for time to mend this heart of mine,
    That keeps on breaking.
    Newspapers I throw away
    Wash the dishes in the sink
    3am, on Tuesday
    I have to much time to think.

    I could call out to heaven I could crawl down through hell
    Nothing will change the way they are, and nothing every will

    He thinks I can't hear him cry
    I pretend I don't know all about all the those 3 am's he spend wrestling with your ghost.

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    I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through hell
    He not can't get over you
    I know he never will

    Nothing he says can bring you back
    He's got nothing left to show
    But a pocket watch and memories
    For that kiss out in the snow

    I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through hell
    He not can't get over you
    I know he never will

    I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through hell
    He not can't get over you
    I know he never will.

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