| Far from the worn path of reason
|
| Further away from the sane
|
| He battles his shadows and demons
|
| Fighting to light the way
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| And the dust and the dirt cloud his vision
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| Onward he rides unafraid
|
| He fights the good fight for good reason
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| A star that refuses to fade
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| Still he braves his path
|
| While windmills only laugh
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| She was wounded and wild when he found her
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| He saw her through child’s eyes
|
| She fell for the spell he was under
|
| Each day a brand new surprise
|
| And she watches with strange curiosity
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| She wants so much to believe
|
| Trying to break the chains of reality
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| Dying to set herself free
|
| Still he braves his path
|
| While windmills only laugh
|
| Though he may appear tattered and broken
|
| His clothes are shabby and bare
|
| Still he glows like the light from a candle
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| With passion of one who still cares
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| There was always a rhyme to the reason
|
| Peering out from tired eyes
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| The truth finally came in treason
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| So wrong, but so justified
|
| So wrong, but so justified
|
| Windmills close their eyes |