| Slow would be the tempo of the restless soul
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| He’s seen what a listless life can bring
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| Wait and then he waits until he’s waiting for
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| The latency of everything
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| Slow would be the rhythm of the hummingbird
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| The quick speed in the shutter of his eyes
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| On flowers he will pose and he will spread the words
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| On how the world is slowly passing by
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| Slow, in the tiredness of your control
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| Of the moment that is nearly standing still
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| Delayed for a minute and not a second more
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| Then fades like a forbidden thrill
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| Gently, behind the beat, we shuffle on ancient streets
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| The reverb of time is our vantage point
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| We slept for a million years, lived through a million fears
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| We are not nervous, we will not ask for more
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| If you can slow up, I’m gonna slow up too
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| Slow like the kissing of a lazy cheek
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| Like the limit and the deadline of the rush
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| And words, words waiting for you to speak
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| Or getting lost in your eternal crush
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| Slow would be the tempo of the restless mind
|
| He’s seen what a listless life can bring
|
| Wait and then he waits until he’s waiting for
|
| For the latency of everything
|
| Gently, behind the beat, we shuffle on ancient streets
|
| The reverb of time is our vantage point
|
| We slept for a million years, lived through a million fears
|
| We are not nervous, we will not ask for more
|
| Pawns of the troubled times and kings of our petty crimes
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| The minds will function with a small delay
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| See what the past has planned
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| The future’s a beggar’s hand
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| The more we understand, the slower our days
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| If you can slow up, I’m gonna slow up too |