I've never cried for help before, seen others fall for that;
It's led them to a different place each time, where nothing shines and everything's still flat.
They say it gets better when you know just who you are, so how does this come to pass?
My teachers told me that blank days are really bad, like looking through frosted glass.
I wanna be one of the ones who make me feel so green, for just the smallest of times;
As if I've been to jail, as if I'm still away, I'm lost, long for communion.
To be or not to be this time, now that's the question here;
It seems to be the view looks back into my eyes, and shows me everything I fear.
There's so much to look at, there's so much to see;
There's so much to look at, there's so much to see.
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