| Never thought it would come easy
|
| slow as turning soil
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| that’s the only way to reach me that much I am sure of
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| bring it to a boil
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| Just take your time, thoroughly
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| let the seasons be the air you
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| breathe in and out
|
| patiently
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| wait for spring’s returning
|
| Try not to think too far ahead
|
| the pendulum swings soon enough
|
| we could stay on this side instead
|
| but we wanna make it rough
|
| There were times I thought I’d get there
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| I know you thought so too
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| the days have bled together
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| Now anyway will do
|
| if you’re looking I might have it
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| but you have to look to see
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| the image you have of me
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| is what I’d like to be
|
| I was so good at pretending
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| and denying when things bothered me
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| so shut the front door I’ll
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| kick in the back
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| metaphorically, I’m hoping
|
| Try not to think too far ahead
|
| the pendulum swings soon enough
|
| we could stay on this side instead
|
| but we wanna make it rough
|
| Make it rough 'til they put you in the handcuff
|
| seeking out minds that are not yet corrupt
|
| woi-oh woi-oh and away you go
|
| I’m a go on til the god damn juice gone
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| far enough into the journey to feel the satisfaction yes
|
| action speaking louder than bombs
|
| we just go on and on, on and on, on and on and on
|
| Try not to think too far ahead
|
| the pendulum swings soon enough
|
| we could stay on this side instead
|
| but we wanna make it rough |