| This thing confuses us
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| It fits no theory:
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| If it is not hallucination, what does that mean?
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| What will happen when the day becomes the last
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| Will there be sun overhead or shadows overcast?
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| I don’t know what will be left to say but I’ll still have confessions to make
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| I’m beginning to fail as a human
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| Cannot feign interest in anything in sight
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| I look at sunsets and the moon in the sky
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| I need something real to occupy my mind
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| Time is foreboding and the end seems so near
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| Even the amused pessimist must fear
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| When I am obsolete and all is through
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| Will I think of nothingness or will I think of you
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| That wicked moon is up again
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| And I feel someone forcing my hand
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| Lying in the dirt to die
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| Will music untune the sky?
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| A fire burning in the rain, it will stand there without a flame
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| Lying in the dirt to die
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| Music will untune the sky
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| Some I regret but I can’t forget
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| Moments outside of time that we had
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| Reaching back to those waters, you eclipsed just bit of the bitterness
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| All my force it has been spent and I know I’ll die without a friend
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| Lying in the dirt to die
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| Music will untune the sky! |