| I can’t lift myself off the ground
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| By the belt loop of my jeans
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| I’m often told to know myself
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| But I’m not sure what that means
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| If I remember what I’ve done
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| Can I know what I’ll do next?
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| But when I’m conscious all along
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| I can’t put it to the test
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| The truth is always true
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| I do the things I do
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| Each prediction is self-fulfilling
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| If I don’t know myself then
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| Can I be my own person?
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| Isn’t conforming easy?
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| I’d rather just be ordinary & free
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| Someday I’ll choreograph my life
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| Dancing to a different drum
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| Until I hear that solo beat
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| I’m content to play along
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| I can pretend to understand
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| What it is I want to be
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| Maybe it’s everything I’m not
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| But it’s all the same to me
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| I mirror what I see
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| And most conveniently
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| Everyone loves their own reflection
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| Maybe you’ve looked inside yourself
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| Spotted patterns in the clouds
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| But was it you observing you
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| Or the other way around?
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| How many others did you see
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| All responding to your name?
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| Could it be you’re the only one?
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| Could it be we’re all the same?
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| There’s no one else to know
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| We make it as we go
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| Redefining our limitations
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| If I don’t know myself then
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| Can I be my own person?
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| Isn’t conforming easy?
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| I’d rather just be ordinary & free
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| That’s me |