| In the tourist cavern I found you
|
| And your face looked like my own
|
| So we walked around for awhile
|
| Cause we both knew it was too early to go home
|
| You could look at the ice formations
|
| Read words so out of date
|
| About a trite religion
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| About a functional hate
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Down here in the turnstiles
|
| Trying to avoid the killing fall
|
| And I saw stray visions
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| Of what life was supposed to mean
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| And I knew you had seen them too
|
| And it gave me solace in the slipstream
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| And I had loose moments
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| Where my mind and my power were my own
|
| So I tried to steal something back
|
| Down in the uncharted zones
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Down here in the passages
|
| Trying to avoid the killing fall
|
| Been outside the attraction
|
| But it was so long ago
|
| I remember the feel of substance
|
| Now there’s one place left to go
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Down here in the minerals
|
| Trying to avoid the killing fall
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Walking in shadows
|
| Down here in the turnstiles
|
| Trying to avoid the killing fall |