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Burn me out like cuts, fade out when Centralia does Nostrils off of dust or like veins too many needles touch If pain is beauty, I'm a pretty bitch Got too quiet, now they're whispering If you blink, then you might miss it, every hour is a week I don't need sympathetics, I just need some room to breathe Do not fucking talk to me, my genetics got me tweaked Running from myself, I can't blame 'em when they leave Time slips away, burn out, don't fade Dance on my grave (no, I will never be them) No, I will never be them, no, I will never be them No, I will never be them, no, I will never be them Mood