| They measure him by his blood-shot eyes
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| They measure him by his thick disguise
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| Those nights of doubt and loneliness
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| Inside the thoughts never rest
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| The jest, the pomp and the circumstance
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| Won’t fill the void nor soothe his sense
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| He wears his secret like a cloak
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| Truth makes it harder to cope
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| By the most enlightened matter
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| I’ll have your mind in the grip of my hand
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| You despise what’s on your platter
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| Wish for a change, dreams will have bound you
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| Make peace with all you ever knew
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| Make peace with all you ever do
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| Make peace with it all
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| I won’t let you fall
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| Nailed down hope and with fingers crossed
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| Pick up the dreams that were nearly lost
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| Race for home and trusting arms
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| The antic has forsaken the farce
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| When they shake him awake again
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| Torn from the calm by a judging hand
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| The daylight’s hard when the mind’s not free
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| The circle starts over again
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| By the most enlightened matter
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| I have your mind in the grip of my hand
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| All he’s done is try to bury
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| Fleeing so far from the judge and the jury |