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this house is through with settling
now its falling to the ground
all the paint is peeling
and there's no one else around
the wind coming from the north
as your sitting in your chair
upon your broke down little porch
it's blowing through your hair
your suit has come unraveled
now your fraying at the seams
there's nothing left, just threads
but this is not what you'd foreseen
stirring in your closet
are the people from your past
the ones that were the closest
they knew you could not last
they've all come to see
as your losing all thats left
you spend your time upon your knees
to consult the one you'd soon reject
you've become well traveled
yeah your laying in the greens
slink between so many beds
you've more than met your queen
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