| The nights are lifting like colored glass
|
| The dawn that breaks might be the last
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| For pointless views that i was after
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| Leave me struggling with disaster
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| With pen in hand, the thoughts that fled
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| Seemed to shatter in my head
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| Tell someone, crystal is falling
|
| Tell someone, crystal is falling
|
| Your paperbacks and mag-by-lines
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| Seasick writers noone finds
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| The feeling that we know they’ll censure
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| For fear they’d be caught in adventure
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| The rumors we could not defend
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| Will find a climax in the end
|
| Tell someone, crystal is falling
|
| Tell someone, crystal is falling
|
| For all the blood that’s turned to ink
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| For quicksand moods when spirits sink
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| For all the years i’ve been neglected
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| My eyes are naked, inspected, infected
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| My god are we all twisted glass
|
| Catching pieces of the past
|
| Tell someone, crystal is falling
|
| Tell someone, crystal is falling |