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1. |
pretty words
03:10
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V1:
Redeemed is a pretty words and so is grace/
But you havent heard the words 3am has said/
Grace is a pretty word and so is redeemd/
But you havent seen the way 6pm's looked at me/
Prechorus:
I'm afraid I'm nearing a line where the light stops/
I'm afraid this feeling's one I cant sleep off
Chorus:
And you cant compare meeting scissor blades/
to putting a needle down to make a record play/
and you cant tell me that you cant live without me/
cause it doesnt work that way/
and I dont know what to say
V2:
Rest is a pretty word and so is healing/
But I'm drowning my problems in pain pills and cold coffee/
Healing is a pretty word and so is rest/
But its 5am and I havent seen my bed
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2. |
My Hands are Cold
03:16
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V1:
I dont know how long I can mourn the months I wont get back/
I dont know if I should raise my hands or maybe the white flag/
It'd be a sin of omission if I didnt say/
I want someone to walk with me until the shadows fade/
Chorus:
I know that You are holding me/
I know the darkness is gonna leave/
but right now my heart feels like its half a home/
and my hands are cold/
V2:
I dont know how long I can braid regret into my hair each morning/
I dont know how long until we're tired of this captive's song Im singing/
I dont know why love feels like a fistfight and I keep getting punched/
Bridge:
Still my heart/
Calm my mind/
Stop the calls/
Bring me back inside/
Because right now my heart feels like half a home/
and my hands are cold.
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3. |
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Long live the kid on his phone/
he slipped in late and hes in the back row/
hes on the bible app because he doesnt have a single on in his home/
thank God he's here/
Long live that girl in the skirt thats just a little too short/
she tried to dress nice, shes never been here before/
its only 10 am and shes already been assumed a whore/
but thank God shes here/
Long live that man who smells like alcohol/
he needs the bathroom but hes too scared of the stares to go thru the fellowship hall/
its not a way to cope he knows but he just couldnt handle the heavy of it all/
but thank God hes here/
Long live that girl in long sleeves in June/
she was tugging at her bracelets the entire time she was in the youth room/
she was doing fine until Saturday night turned her brain into a prison room/
but thank God shes here/
Long live those guys that came here on motorcycles/
blue-eyed, tattooed punks they dont fit in at all/
but they bright-eyed and optimistic enough to think we can all be disciples/
thank God theyre here/
Long live that couple in the corner thats a different color/
they got married last spring and they dont want to be like all the others/
they dont know when to sing or when to stand or all the terms because she was too busy to listen to her grandmother/
but thank God theyre here.
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Esther Kinsaul Minneapolis, Minnesota
death over apathy/
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