| I’m a bit overwhelmed, some may call it uninspired
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| But what is there left to do when someone’s so young and admired?
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| And what’s the point of it all?
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| If it just goes to waste
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| If I’m nothing more than currents riding on top of the waves
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| So now I’m writing this song
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| Like I’ve got something to say
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| Well I’ve said it before; |
| I’ll say it again ‘till I’m blue in the face
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| And what’s the point of it all?
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| To come apart at the seams
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| If I’m never gonna be around to witness the dawn of my dreams
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| We’re not giving up
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| No we’re not giving up
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| Do I have courage to say, what appears in my mind?
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| Or am I still censored by all that it means to comply?
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| So now I’ve found myself here, with this purpose and strength
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| To brandish these words, spoken at last, spoken at length
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| And now they’re selling us a way out, a bitter pill
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| We can’t afford the blood we’ve spilled
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| Hold on to what you will, we can’t afford it
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| And they’re still calling it a way out, a lonely road
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| We couldn’t but we must’ve known
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| Oh no, we’re bowing out
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| They’re gonna miss us when we’re not around
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| Put all emotion aside, no matter how hard you try
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| Take what is buried inside
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| You had it, you got it, goodbye
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| Put all emotion aside, no matter how hard you try
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| Take what is buried inside
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| You had it, you got it, goodbye
|
| And now they’re selling us a way out, a bitter pill
|
| We can’t afford the blood we’ve spilled
|
| Hold on to what you will, we can’t afford it
|
| And they’re still calling it a way out, a lonely road
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| We couldn’t but we must’ve known
|
| Oh no, we’re bowing out
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| They’re gonna miss us when we’re not around
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| We can’t afford the blood we’ve spilled
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| You’re gonna miss us when we’re not around |