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I don't sleep, because sleep is the cousin of death |
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Down the hall, there's a kid that I know |
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He's kind of quirky so I say hello |
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He's so sarcastic but he's always right |
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Working on those problem sets late into the night |
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Mad Mad magazines sit piled by his bed |
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A million brilliant thoughts going all through his head |
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We bike to class in the autumn rain |
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He tells me that he's fine but I know he's in pain |
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Pat I miss you dude it's so hard to say goodbye |
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In Europe last winter you were tired of the lie |
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Monoxide in the bathroom but the door was locked |
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We were always there for you, you could have called and talked |
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I felt guilty and alone and so sick when I discovered |
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You did it in Berlin, you'd just talked to your mother |
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I guess it was too much, depression disillusion |
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Maybe suicide's an answer, but it wasn't the solution |
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CHORUS: |
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And I wish that you hadn't done it |
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Could have won it and moved on from it |
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And we could have grown old together |
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But instead you'll always be 23.... 23. |
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We sat together one night on El Camino |
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On the bench by the bus stop hiding from El Nino |
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You told me your secret I just sat there in shock |
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You couldn't tell your parents, you couldn't break that lock |
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Cognitive dissonance, trapped in your shell |
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Depression and regression made your life a living hell |
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The pain was too intense, the fence too strong to break |
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So you went to Germany, it was too much to take |
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You came back broken hearted distracted by the dream |
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The worlds collided now, college wasn't what it seemed |
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You went to back to Berlin to find yourself once more |
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They broke down the door and found you lying on the floor |
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I took the Amtrak up the coast, your mom met me at the station |
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I went to see your house and photos of your graduation |
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We drove to your grave, no tombstone where you lay |
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Your freshmen yearbook's by your bed and your room's in disarray |
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CHORUS |
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(vocal samples recorded spring 2003) |
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Lars: Ladies and gentlemen, I want you to meet a good friend of mine, this is Patrick Wood! |
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Pat: What's up Lars? |
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Lars: What's up Pat? |
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Pat: How you doing man? |
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Lars: Good. What do you think of me having my recording equipment take up three quarters of our small room in the Kimball dorm? |
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Pat: It's no problem man, I love you. |
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Lars: I love you too Pat. |
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Pat: Thanks Lars. |
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Lars: Pat Wood! Hey that's you. |
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Pat: (Sarcastic laughter) |
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CHORUS: |
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And I wish that you hadn't done it |
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Could have won it and moved on from it |
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Now we'll never grow old together |
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But you're in my memory, 23... 23. |
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Suicide sucks. |