Sick I'm sick to my stomach. And all of my sense tells me to get over it; But I can't let me down. I'm done now. I'm lovesick for nothing. I tried to be all you wanted But I must breathe somehow. The pedestal you built me was too high. You push me just to prove I can't fly. Of course I would do anything for you, But you know there are things I just can't choose. I fall and I bruise and I let you down and I can't even try to turn this around.
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