Lungs Like Gallows

Senses Fail

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    I give blood to prove to myself
    That I can matter to somebody else.

    Is what makes a man the dirt on his hands?
    If so, don't put you're faith in the desert sand,
    because the wind is always blowing
    There are gallows deep inside my lungs, that's where I hung ambition

    Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
    Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984
    I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
    and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors
    So give me seven more

    I give blood not for the cause but to slowly give up the person I was

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    Holding my breath won't help, everything went to hell
    So now I steal back pennies from the well

    because my wishes failed

    I am screaming at my own shadow to stop living like a ghost

    Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
    Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984
    I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
    and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors
    So give me seven more

    I don't need her I'm not that desperate
    Come visit me in twenty years and maybe then
    cause I'm not done screaming yet
    you can call off the intervention,
    cause I don't need your attention

    Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
    Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984
    I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
    and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors
    So give me seven more

    I don't need her I'm not that desperate
    I don't need her I'm not that desperate

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