| Passive complainers are travelers with no memories.
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| They put down their bags and show us their sore feet.
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| But the question is:
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| Would a hot bath make them shut their mouths?
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| They’ve got time to complain but no seconds to change.
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| Living criticism never lighting the weight
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| Of this heavy sky which will end breaking our fragile necks
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| It’s time to light the sky,
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| But tonight everyone’s complaining
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| Subversively crying with their hands in their pockets
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| I saw smiles between their unending grimaces and
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| It may betray any kind of inner pleasure
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| I don’t listen to you if your only solution’s
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| To get high on pills on every disillusion
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| I don’t understand you if your choice is to wait
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| For that train to come straight to your face
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| There’s one world where one word could
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| Have made things live and move from the most static state
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| Engrave it on your cold desperate heart
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| And start looking for a change
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| Never mind the way you find to wake up It should always be fine
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| I’ll scream you the word of Astaroth
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| I’m searching for the light.
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| Never mind the way you find to wake up It should always be fine.
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| I’ll scream you the word of Astaroth,
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| I’m searching for the light.
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| Aemaeth
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| Never mind the way you find to wake up,
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| It should always be fine.
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| I’ll scream you the word of Astaroth,
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| I’m searching for the light.
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| Aemaeth |