Driven conversations, even I can readWouldn't want to fake it, and I'm tired of this dream (Not sure about this sentence)Taking medications, in the back of the roomDriven conversations, he died in June.Chorus:See the stab wounds in his handsSee him dying in his roomHe's dying in his roomHe's dying in his roomHeading for me, heading this wayHe is coming, I don't careWouldn't want to fake it, well I don't mindGiving conversations to a friend of mineGiving medications, in a lighted roomWouldn't want to fake it, I know I shouldChorus:See the stab wounds in his handsYou killed him, I don't careKeep a promise, you would tooKeep a promise, even youSee the silence in his headHe is coming, I don't careWe're not gonna make it, well I don't mindWouldn't want to fake it, but I have this timeGiving conversations, to whom they don't knowTaking medications till my stomach's full.Chorus:See a famine in his headSee him coming at their heelsHe loves you, give him a chanceI don't love him, I don't careSee him starving, give her hellIt is over, we don't care In His Room
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