| Lost inside a scene, a reflection
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| Mirroring a line, a projection
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| What I hope to say, what I hope to ransom
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| What I nearly lost, what I nearly shattered
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| Walk into the dark, devastating
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| Fall into the sound, records playing
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| Do you keep it all, lock it up from eye line?
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| To you lose it all, freak out on the front line?
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| Turn it on, turn it up, every little bit
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| ELECTRIC when it hits
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| Turn it on, turn it up, every little bit
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| ELECTRIC when it hits
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| Listen for the rise of elation
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| Let your body drown in sensation
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| Do we build it up, do we reinvent it?
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| Do we break it all, do we only bend it?
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| Drawing out the line, of what’s compelling
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| Loosening the grip, of what is holding
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| Can I let myself close enough to feel it?
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| Can I let myself finally believe it?
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| Turn it on, turn it up, every little bit
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| ELECTRIC when it hits
|
| Turn it on, turn it up, every little bit
|
| ELECTRIC when it hits
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| So it’s the very same scene
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| And we stand in the dark listening
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| Our eyes focused on your mouth
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| We’re trying to make the words out
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| Hey Hey Hey
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| So turn it on, turn it up, every little bit
|
| ELECTRIC when it hits
|
| Turn it on, turn it up, every little bit
|
| ELECTRIC when it hits
|
| It hits
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| It hits
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| It hits |