| We are not so different, you and I
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| no matter what we think
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| we’re kicking against the traces, bludgeoning
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| trying to make it sink
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| We’re stepping into the unknown
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| peeling layers of the onion right down
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| cuz that is part of my style to
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| risk to be left with nothing
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| in pursuit of chasing something
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| out of hand
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| I know, I know don’t tell me
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| I’ve been on this earth
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| I know the moon like a friend
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| I hear a tune or someone sing
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| feel the beauty in them
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| these words woman
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| we have some children
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| I got memories with you
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| I wonder how it ends
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| it’s beautiful yes
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| what we have chosen
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| with love in our hands
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| we have made this garden
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| &I think I can ride
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| although I’m not a horseman
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| but I have a patient mind
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| &it's open
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| We don’t want to walk into the gray
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| solo rolling with no map in hand
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| so we reach out for someone to grasp
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| keep from sinking into the sand
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| Pick it up now brother help another pick it up
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| don’t get stuck in the destruction looming near
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| pick it up now brother help another pick it up
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| this is the revelation of the year
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| Picking up all the pieces here and there
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| to see if one might fit
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| spinning them around and sideways and up and down
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| it kinda stings a bit
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| Digging through all the ditches just unwinding all the stitches into thread
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| then hang it out to dry so
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| what was I expecting just collecting balls of lint up in my head?
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| I know I know don’t yell at me
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| I know you’re tired of the same routine
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| you have that look on your face
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| I think I know what it means
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| out of sorts in a vast machine
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| a worker bee up in the scene
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| never will be the queen
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| &yes sometimes you have to sting
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| expose the schemes to unlock the dreams
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| ignite quicker than the gasoline
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| to mask everything again in a smokescreen
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| We don’t want to walk into the gray
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| solo rolling with no map in hand
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| so we reach out for someone to grasp
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| keep from sinking into the sand |