| Baby, don’t yell,
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| You’re tearing a hole right through the walls
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| of everything we used to know,
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| I’m building a place, something amazing,
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| Just for the sake of saving us From under the sun,
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| Two plastic hearts with nowhere to run,
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| We’re rolling the dice on whatever’s left,
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| cause God only knows that we could use the rest…
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| Me and you,
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| living under a paper moon,
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| Cause real life just isn’t right;
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| lets fabricate…
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| Me and you,
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| living under a paper moon,
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| This real life just isn’t right
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| let’s get away — let’s fabricate.
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| Baby, don’t fret,
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| At least we’re alive with just enough breath
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| to truly despise the hills in the carpet,
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| knots in the ties that bind us so tightly to our waking lives,
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| I’ll build up a house, I’ll build up an army
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| Of cellophane soldiers— cheap origami,
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| To take back a piece or whatever’s left
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| Of that little box
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| That beats in your chest
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| Me and you,
|
| living under a paper moon,
|
| Cause real life just isn’t right;
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| lets fabricate…
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| Me and you,
|
| living under a paper moon,
|
| This real life just isn’t right
|
| let’s get away — let’s fabricate.
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| I’m building a place,
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| something amazing just for the sake of saving us,
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| And whatever’s left of that little box
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| that beats in your chest
|
| Me and you,
|
| living under a paper moon,
|
| Cause real life just isn’t right;
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| lets fabricate…
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| Me and you,
|
| living under a paper moon,
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| This real life just isn’t right let’s get away
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| This real life just isn’t right, let’s fabricate… |