| With every sun that sets I am feeling more
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| Like a stranger on a foreign shore
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| With an eroding beach disappearing from underneath
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| And when my mirror speaks, it never minces words
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| 'Cause these eyes don’t shine half as bright
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| As they used to do and they haven’t for quite a while
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| 'Cause I’m a man who hides from all that binds
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| And a mess of fading lines
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| And there’s a tangled thread inside my head
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| With nothing on either end
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| I always fall in love with an open door
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| With a horizon on an endless sea
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| As I look around the ones who were standing right in front of me
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| And then my mirror speaks with irreverence
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| Like a soldier I can’t command
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| As it sees a frightened child in the body of a full-grown man
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| And he’s a man who hides from all that binds
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| And a mess of fading lines
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| And there’s a tangled thread inside his head
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| With nothing on either end
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| There’s nothing on the ends
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| A new position for a different view
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| And nothing changes but the slightest hues
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| And I am standing face to face
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| With a man who hides from all that binds
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| And a mess of fading lines
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| And there’s a tangled thread inside his head
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| With nothing on either end
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| Well, I’m a man who hides from all that binds
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| And a mess of fading lines
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| And there’s a tangled thread inside my head
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| With nothing on either end
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| 'Cause I’m a man who hides from all that binds
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| And a mess of fading lines
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| And there’s a tangled thread inside my head
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| With nothing on either end
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| There’s nothing on the ends
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| No, there’s nothing on the ends |