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This Ain't No Fuckin' Calendar Son

from Too Little, Too Late. by Bombs And Beating Hearts

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lyrics

I woke up this morning and I rose to my feet/put on my shoes to see where they would take me/lately i've been distraught over the smallest things/spent hours alone and I scrawled in my notebook/some doodles of bones some plants and some thoughts/im capturing feelings, a testament of where i'd been//I've never felt such reverance with pale blue excitement/my beating heart held by my trembling hands/i can find strength and joy inside me/i dont need your ideas of how I should be/my talents and pitfalls all make up who I am//I woke up this morning and I rose to my feet/put on my shoes to see where they would take me/i'm searching for the cure for that old reflexive thought//These trees, this road an escape from my empty home I've got enough life in me to live until I die/breathing hard but im hardly breathing depression's never been cured by sleeping/

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from Too Little, Too Late., released January 21, 2012
Outro by Nick T Skunk

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Bombs And Beating Hearts Salt Lake City, Utah

2004-2009

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