Текст песни Regret - September Stories
I've
played
with
the
thought
of
running
away
from
what
haunts
me
most
Or
maybe
just
ending
the
story
short
Either
would
be
better
than
this
place
that
I'm
at
now
I've
played
this
thought
over
passing
it
back
and
forth
between
my
fingers
Enough
to
make
them
raw
through
the
skin
Cutting
deep
into
my
bones
and
hitting
the
one
thing
that
I've
held
through
these
long
seasons...
my
hope
While
everything's
come
and
gone,
that
was
the
one
thing
that
kept
me
from
giving
up
on
going
on
Like
the
times
when
friends
and
family
tell
you
"You're
going
to
do
great
things"
But
this
actually
held
some
sense
of
meaning
in
its
phrase
Unlike
the
empty
nonsense
that's
said
to
comfort
you
with
the
fact
that
your
youth
has
expired
Some
would
say
it's
wrong
and
that
I'm
the
liar,
but
you've
got
a
feeling
crawling
deep
under
your
skin
that
tells
you
right
Tells
you
that
this
plan
that's
been
laid
out
for
you
isn't
etched
in
stone
Isn't
written
to
be
declared
to
the
generations
below
It's
a
feeling
that's
nestled
itself
deep
in
my
awkwardly
long
bones
Leaching
off
the
hope
that
let
me
endure
this
tragedy
that
we
like
to
call
a
home
It
wasn't
always
a
tragedy,
and
there
weren't
always
holes
in
the
walls
where
holes
should
never
be
There
was
a
time
when
pictures
hung
from
every
free
inch
of
the
walls
Sporting
landscapes
and
memories
that
stretch
down
the
entire
hall
Showing
the
life
that
used
to
roam
freely
and
the
love
that
came
endlessly
But
fear
is
the
one
thing
that
led
to
it's
destruction
This
disillusion
of
fear
led
us
to
dismantle
what
we
had
worked
so
hard
to
build
What
we
had
given
so
much
to
find
And
within
the
blink
of
an
eye,
or
whatever
you
prefer
to
tell
time...
it
was
gone
This
home
that
had
birthed
a
tragedy,
had
finally
given
way
to
its
own
And
yet
I
still
search
for
ways
of
how
to
recreate
that
home
No
matter
how
many
pictures
I
tilt
or
how
many
days
I
cross
off
in
the
month
of
September
I
can't
recreate
what
we
had
No
matter
how
many
walls
you
paint
or
pictures
you
hang
It'll
never
be
the
same
as
it
once
was
It's
like
I
found
myself
stuck
living
in
the
past
holding
onto
anything
that
brings
some
sort
of
comfort,
or
at
least
won't
bring
any
pain
And
you've
got
that
pain
wrenched
deep
under
your
skin
Crawling
into
any
crack
and
crevice,
finding
any
way
to
get
in
And
that
void
that
you've
got
that
you
feel
in
your
limbs
It
can't
be
cured
with
any
pill
or
needle
The
things
that
you
use
to
numb
the
gnawing
bite
until
it
fades
into
a
dull
tick
No...
only
something
greater
than
yourself
can
fill
that
void
that
you've
been
trying
to
satisfy
for
years
That
void
is
the
same
pain
that's
made
itself
home
in
my
awkwardly
long
bones
I
wish
I
had
the
guts
to
confront
what
haunts
me
the
most
I
wish
I
had
the
ability
to
take
a
chance
without
the
fear
of
falling
But
I
think
I've
finally
discovered
what
keeps
me
up
at
night
when
I'm
all
alone
That's
the
pain
that's
made
it's
home
in
these
God
forsaken
bones
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