| He makes his way through the heart of the night
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| With all he owns in a pack
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| Those childhood ways disappeared in the struggle
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| And it don’t look like they’re coming back
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| His heart is pounding like a drum in a cayon
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| Givin' him courage and fear
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| He’ll walk the footsteps of a man for the first time
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| While he’s holding back the boys tears
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| Hungry and cold, so young and so old
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| There’s so much that he doesn’t know
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| But the voice that’s inside him
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| Keeps telling him mile after mile
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| You’re learning the art of survival
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| He eyes the lights of an ageless horizon
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| Rising up from the sand
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| He aches for something to believe in and guide him
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| Out across this no man’s land
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| Bridges behind him are burning to ashes
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| There’s no way that he can turn back
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| But that voice that’s inside him keeps telling him mile after mile
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| It’s all in the art of survival
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| Dreams burn like wildfire
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| He feels the warmth in his bones
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| Faces of loved ones
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| Place like he’s never known
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| Bridges behind him are burning to ashes
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| There’s no way that he can turn back
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| But that voice that’s inside him keeps telling him mile after mile
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| This is all in the art of survival
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| This is all in the art of survival… |