| The rise and the fall, dialect and different skill
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| Gripping my hands with every intention of breaking free
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| The roar of the crowd halts to the simple echo of a beating heart
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| As we all attempted to exhale our breathe just wouldn’t leave our chest
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| One thousand dainty figures all lined up and linked
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| Side to side by the arms, each and every limb at our sides
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| As if they were sleeping
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| The quarrel of all communication being choked from our nerves
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| In the end of the bottom line we all anticipate
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| The intense stabs of pins and needles
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| The roar of the crowd halts to the simple echo of a beating heart
|
| As we all attempted to exhale our breathe just wouldn’t leave our chest
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| Shake them off, just to find a way to wake them up
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| To make them see what they are losing
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| Introduce what you have become, please show them where you’re going
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| Struggle to fight the world of everything you’ve ever wanted
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| Everything that you’ve ever wanted
|
| The rise and the fall, dialect and different skill
|
| Gripping my hand with every intention of breaking free
|
| The roar of the crowd halts to the simple echo of a beating heart
|
| As we all attempted to exhale our breathe just wouldn’t leave
|
| No, it wouldn’t leave our chest |