| Loved one
|
| Even his wife don’t know his name
|
| Pulled forth
|
| Distracted time and time again
|
| Searching turns to longing and confused with growing old
|
| He’s growing up
|
| He’s getting worse
|
| Born to love
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| Those wires crossed bridges without sight
|
| No faces all the shepards look like clouds
|
| Inside the multiple loving memories of family and friends
|
| He’s moving on
|
| He’s standing still
|
| Gave it time
|
| But all that pressure seems to build
|
| Inside the mirror plated walls of his ideas
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| Always racing, never winning
|
| Chasing Mary in the snow
|
| She isn’t there
|
| She’s far from home
|
| And now he’s old
|
| Too far along to even hope
|
| Paper maché disintegrates out in the rain
|
| He’s just a skeleton of dreams
|
| Left at the mercy of the breeze
|
| He feels so sad
|
| He doesn’t know
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| Alone |