| Spectators clog the walks
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| Expressions null
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| All just a flash at my peripheral
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| Can’t pause for you, so reach out for my hand
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| Or I’ll pass you by, 'cause I’m the running man
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| When muscle governs with absurd, clichéd command
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| In line with greed’s voice, growling for us to stay the plan
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| It’s all surreal to me
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| Don’t drag me down into that plot
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| At least not just because you can
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| Where plastic people clutch their phones
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| Where I’m an antiquity alone
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| Just reach out for my hand
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| 'Cause I won’t watch you fall
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| 'Cause I’m the running man |