| There’s no beginning to the story
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| A bookshelf sinks into the sand
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| And a language learned, forgot in turn
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| Studied once again
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| It’s a shocking bit of footage
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| Viewed on a shitty TV screen
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| You can squint at it
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| The snow and static
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| To make out what it means
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| And keep stretching that antenna
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| Hoping that it will come clear
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| I need some reception
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| A higher message
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| Please tell me what to feel
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| Cause I don’t know what tomorrow brings
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| It’s alive with such possibilities
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| But I know that I feel better when I sing
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| Burdens are lifted from me
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| That’s my voice rising
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| So T-Bone, please keep the tape rolling
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| Gil, keep strumming that guitar
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| We need a record of our failures
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| We must document our love
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| I sat too long in my silence
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| Grown too old on my pain
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| To shed this skin, be born again
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| It starts with an ending
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| And I don’t know what tomorrow brings
|
| It’s full of such possibilities
|
| But I know that I feel better when I sing
|
| Burdens are lifted from me
|
| That’s my voice rising
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| It’s not a movie, no private screening
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| This method acting--I call it living
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| It’s like a fountain, the door is open
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| We have a problem with no solution
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| But to love and to be loved
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| So thank you friends for the time we’ve shared
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| Your love stays with me like sunlight and air
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| And though I truly wish I could keep hanging around here
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| My joy is covering me, soon I will disappear
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| He came dancing across the water
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| With his galleons and guns
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| Looking for the new world
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| In the palace in the sun
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| On the shore lay Montezuma
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| With his coca leaves and pearls
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| In his halls, he often wondered
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| The secrets of the world
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| And his subjects gathered round him
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| Like the leaves around a tree
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| In their clothes of many colors
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| For the angry gods to see
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| And the women all looked beautiful
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| And the men stood straight and strong
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| They offered life in sacrifice
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| So that others could go on
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| Hate was just a legend
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| And war was never known
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| The people worked together
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| And they lifted many stones
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| Then they carried them to the flatlands
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| But they died along the way
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| And they built up with their bare hands
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| What we still can’t do today
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| And I know she’s living there
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| And she loves me to this day
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| I just can’t remember when
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| Or how I lost my way |