| This room’s alive
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| Breathing, in this moment, each one of us is leaving
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| All of life’s worries and troubles, far behind
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| Speaking in tongues, sweating blood
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| Rapture!
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| Some search their entire lives for such a cure
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| Screaming silently inside
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| Past horrors plaguing their minds
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| This is our release; |
| this is our violent plea
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| Heart’s scarred and bandaged
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| Soul’s withered and damaged
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| This is our release, our violent plea
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| It’s time to burn the past
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| Take off our self-fabricated, coping masks
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| We’ll let each other see who we really are
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| With our broken limbs and battle scars
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| Naked, all things stripped away
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| You’ll see we’ve all gone through similar pains
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| Similar pains!
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| And like children, we count and play our hiding games
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| But we won’t come inside when grace calls our name
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| Slaves to our guilt and shame
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| Pointing the finger at the one who was never really to blame
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| Ourselves
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| Reopen your wounds, anew
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| And watch the broken come to stand by you
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| You don’t have to feel alone
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| 'Cause I know, this place could feel like home
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| There is no need to run and hide
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| When your true family is standing by your side |