| You were the seeker
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| Then you found there’s nothing to find
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| It’ll all come down to you in its own good time
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| No one’s the older
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| No one’s the wiser, no one cares
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| When every step takes you from nowhere
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| Going from somewhere to here
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| Your quiet eyes almost vacant
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| There’s no need to explain
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| The fine line between stealing and giving
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| In the landscape of the saint
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| You were the dreamer
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| Who got lost in your escape
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| When beauty became a prison
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| You found your freedom in the mundane
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| So when will I see what you see?
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| You say it’s got nothing to do with being worthy
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| When will I see what you see?
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| When you’ve gone and lost
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| What you thought you never had
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| And you’re numb with the fear
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| That it’s never coming back
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| It makes no difference
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| It’s gonna be what it’s gonna be
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| Sometimes the purest gold comes from
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| The hands of a thief
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| So when will I see what you see?
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| You say it’s got noting to do with being worthy
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| When will I see what you see?
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| When will I see what you see? |