| Tell me a piece of your history
|
| That you're proud to call your own
|
| Speak in words you picked up
|
| As you walked through life alone.
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| We used to swim in your stories
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| And be pulled down by their tide,
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| Choking on the words
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| And drowning with no air inside.
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| Now you've hit a wall and it's not your fault
|
| My dear, my dear, my dear.
|
| Now you've hit a wall and you've hit it hard,
|
| My dear, my dear, oh dear.
|
| It is not enough to be dumbstruck;
|
| (Can you fill the silence?)
|
| You must have the words in that head of yours.
|
| And oh, oh, can you feel the silence?
|
| I can't take it anymore,
|
| 'Cause it is not enough to be dumbstruck.
|
| (Can you fill the silence?)
|
| Tell me a piece of your history
|
| That you've never said out loud.
|
| Pull the rug beneath my feet
|
| And shake me to the ground.
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| Wrap me around your fingers,
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| Break the silence open wide,
|
| And before it seeps into my ears,
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| It fills me up from the inside.
|
| Now you've hit a wall and you're lost for words,
|
| My dear, my dear, my dear.
|
| Now you've hit a wall and you hit it hard
|
| My dear, my dear, oh dear.
|
| It is not enough to be dumbstruck;
|
| (Can you fill this silence?)
|
| You must have the words in that head of yours.
|
| And oh, oh, can you feel the silence?
|
| I can't take it anymore,
|
| 'Cause it is not enough to be dumbstruck.
|
| (Can you fill the silence?)
|
| If you give it a name, then it's already won.
|
| What you good for, what you good for?
|
| If you give it a name, then it's already won.
|
| What you good for, what you good for?
|
| If you give it a name, then it's already won.
|
| What you good for, what you good for?
|
| If you give it a name, then it's already won.
|
| What you good for, what you good for?
|
| It is not enough to be dumbstruck;
|
| (Can you fill this silence?)
|
| You must have the words in that head of yours.
|
| And oh, oh, can you feel the silence?
|
| I can't take it anymore,
|
| 'Cause it is not enough to be dumbstruck, oh. |