| Frozen by the forward speed,
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| I’m running from the outside world,
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| Making tracks from zone to zone,
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| Nowhere left to call my own,
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| Always burning up the miles,
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| Real events just pass me by,
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| Locked inside my limousine,
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| See my face behind the screen …
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| Something living …
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| There’s something living,
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| Living in my limousine.
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| One hand on the steering wheel,
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| I’m listening to the dynaflow,
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| Counting moments in my mind,
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| Like a traveller in time,
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| Passing fields of clouds and trees,
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| Water gardens in the rain,
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| Sculpted by velocity,
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| Everything appears the same.
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| Something living …
|
| There’s something living,
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| Living in my limousine. |