My dearest friend
On your chest
There's an empty drawer
As light as a feather
I know
I'm not going
I know
I'm not helping in flames
I'm holding still
On your side
There was no way
I could find
A scar into the ground
My lonely rest
Under the stairs
There's a mourning freak
And a selfish painter
I know
I'm not going
I know
I'm not helping in flames
I'm not afraid
I'm not a friend
I'm not going
I know
I'm not helping inflames but ...
Wait ...
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