| It’s 3AM
|
| And I am laying wide-awake
|
| And I can’t sleep for the noise inside my head
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| The world vibrating
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| With a cruel cacophony
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| Flooded with the thoughts my mind has bled
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| The restless furor
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| Of a thousand racing thoughts
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| Swarms around me like a vulture circles prey
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| In the darkness
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| No one else can hear a sound
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| But I am deafened by this ceaseless disarray
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| I could scream myself to sleep
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| If it would shatter the illusion
|
| But I can’t give in to this
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| It’s the noise that makes me human
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| Waking life
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| Like a movie on a screen
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| Running backwards as the film starts to unthread
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| A wall of violence
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| Bounding forward through the peace
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| With no regard for what might lie ahead
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| An infestation
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| Of arbitrary thought
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| Washes over me in paralyzing waves
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| My defenses
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| Battered by the driving storm
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| Isolated — waiting to be saved
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| I could scream myself to sleep
|
| If it would shatter the illusion
|
| But I can’t give in to this
|
| It’s the noise that makes me human
|
| It’s much too late
|
| And I am slowly losing ground
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| A prisoner to the noise inside my head
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| Disconnected
|
| I am trapped within myself
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| Held captive by a tide that never ebbs
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| I could scream myself to sleep
|
| If it would shatter the illusion
|
| But I can’t give in to this
|
| It’s the noise that makes me human |