| Walking a lonely road in the dark
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| A scent of rain
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| Under wings of a clouded sky
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| Is it a losing game
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| Running after pictures
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| Slowly slipping away
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| Trying to take hold of a memory
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| Do you remember the days when forever
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| Had only just begun
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| You reach for the distance
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| And when you arrive the distance
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| And when you arrive the distance is gone
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| Already gone
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| Withered rose in the rear view mirror
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| Fade away and rain came late
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| Was it all worth it
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| When it’s all been proven just an illusion
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| A distant memory for
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| Tomorrow in the palm of our hands
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| What’s gonna be left but a thorn without roses
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| Tomorrow in the palm of our hands
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| We’re gonna take hold of a thorn
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| Of a thorn without a rose
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| Laid out a hedge of thorns around my heart
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| Pricking your fingers
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| Our reason and soul
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| Tearing you and me apart
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| Bed of roses in the rear view mirror
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| It turns to thorns
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| To a bed of thorns
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| I’d never known that dying embers
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| Would hurt more than the blazing fire we’d lit
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| Tomorrow in the palm of our hands
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| What’s gonna be left but a thorn without roses
|
| Tomorrow in the palm of our hands
|
| We’re gonna take hold of a thorn without a rose
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| Why do you think that you have lost
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| There ain’t nobody who has not
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| It ain’t right what I feel
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| I’ll been begging on my knees
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| For the sun to rise again — yeah
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| Another time
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| Tomorrow in the palm of our hands
|
| What’s gonna be left but a thorn without roses
|
| Tomorrow in the palm of our hands
|
| We’re gonna take hold of a thorn without a rose |