| During the time of which I speak
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| It was hard to turn the other cheek
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| To the blows of insecurity
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| Feeding the cancer of my intellect
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| The blood of love soon neglected
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| Lay dying in the strength of its impurity
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| Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
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| They’ve all gone and left each other
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| In search for fairer weather
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| We sit here in our storm
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| And drink a toast to the slim chance of love’s recovery
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| Here I am in younger days star gazing
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| Painting picture perfect maps
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| Of how my life and love would be
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| Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection
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| My compass: faith in love’s perfection
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| I missed ten million miles of road I should have seen
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| Meanwhile my friends we thought were so together
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| Left each other one by one on the road to fairer weather
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| And we sit here in our storm
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| And drink a toast to the slim chance of love’s recovery
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| Rain soaked and voice choked
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| Like silent screaming in a dream
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| I search for our absolute distinction
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| Not content to bow and bend
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| To whims of culture that swoop like vultures
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| Eating us away, (eating us away)
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| Eating us away to our extinction
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| O how I wish I were a trinity
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| So if lost a part of me
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| I’d still have two of the same to live
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| But nobody gets a life time rehearsal
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| As specks of dust, we’re universal
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| To let this love survive be the greatest gift we could give
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| Tell all the friends who think they’re so together
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| That these are ghosts and mirages
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| All these thoughts of fairer weather
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| Though its stormy now I feel safe
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| Within the arms of love’s discovery |