| Lying on my bed, I was reading French
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| With the light too bright for my senses
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| From this hiding place life was way too much
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| It was loud and rough round the edges
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| So I faced the wall when an old man called
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| Out of dreams that I would die there
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| But a sight unseen, you were pulling strings
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| You had a different idea
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| I was like a child, I was lying strong
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| And my father lifted me up there
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| Took me to a place where they checked my body
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| My soul was floating in thin-air
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| I clung to the bed and I clung to the past
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| I clung to the welcome darkness
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| But at the end of the night there’s a green green light
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| The quiet before the madness
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| There was a girl that sang like the chime of a bell
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| And she put out her arm, she touched me when I was in hell
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| When I was in hell
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| Someone sang a song and I sang along
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| Cause I knew the words from my childhood
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| Intellect ambition they fell away
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| And they locked me up for my own good
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| But I didn’t mind, cause the silence was kind
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| It spoke to me in whispers
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| There was the sound of the wind and the cold cold dawn
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| And the quiet hum of business
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| Let me dangle awhile in this waiting room
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| I don’t need to go I don’t need to know what you’re doing
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| Know what you’re doing
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| Lying on my side you were half awake
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| And your face was tired and crumpled
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| If I had a camera I’d snap you now
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| Cause there’s beauty in every stumble
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| We are out of practice we’re out of sight
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| On the edge of nobody’s empire
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| And if we live by books and we live by hope
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| Does that make us targets for gunfire?
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| Now I look at you, you’re a mother of two
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| You’re a quiet revolution
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| Marching with the crowd, singing dirty and loud
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| For the people’s emancipation
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| Did I do okay, did I pave the way?
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| Was I strong when you were wanting?
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| I was tied to the yoke with a decent bloke
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| Who was stern but never daunting
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| And he told me to push and he made me feel well
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| He told to me to leave that vision of hell to the dying
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| Oh to the dying |