| These are the thoughts that go through my head
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| In my backyard on a sunday afternoon
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| When I have the house to myself and I am not
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| Expending all that energy on fighting
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| With my boyfriend
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| Is he the one that I will marry
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| And why is it so hard to be objective about
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| Myself why do I feel cellularly alone
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| Am I supposed to live in this crazy city
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| Can blindly continued fear-induced regurtitated life-denying tradition
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| Be overcome
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| Where does the money go that I send
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| To those in need, if we have so much why do some people have nothing
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| Still why do I feel frantic when I first wake up in the morning
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| Why do you say you are spiritual, yet you treat people like shit
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| How can you say you’re close to God, and yet you talk behind
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| My back as though I’m not a part of you, why do I say «I'm fine»
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| When it’s obvious I’m not, why’s it so hard to tell you what I want
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| Why can’t you just read my mind?
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| Why do I fear that the quieter I am
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| The less you will listen
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| Why do I care whether you like me or not
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| Why’s it so hard for me to be angry
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| Why is it such work to stay conscious and so easy to get stuck
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| And not the other way around
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| Will I ever move back to Canada
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| Can I be with a lover with whom I am a student
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| And a master, oh why am I encouraged to shut my mouth
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| When it gets too close to home, why cannot I
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| Live in the moment |