| There’s a lot of politics
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| A lot of cruel
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| There’s always that elephant inside the room
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| There’s a lot of talking and throwing looks
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| Not all our bruises are noticeable
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| There’s always that happiness they want to sell you
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| Look at how they made us look at ourselves
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| There are many quiet tears and flawless feeds
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| There’s a lot of drink-it-away at the parties
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| And I keep on waiting for time to slow down
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| And I keep on hoping for love to come around
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| And I don’t know how to make sense of the things that I feel
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| There are many waiting rooms
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| Lot of bad news
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| Barely awake as too late comes too soon
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| When the ground beneath you is shifting where you stand
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| What you took for granted runs like sand out of your hands
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| And all that we wish is for time to slow down
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| And all that we hope is that love will come around
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| And try to find ways to make sense of the things that we feel
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| There are many lonely nights, unrequited love
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| So many words that just wasn’t enough
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| There are many walks home to an empty house
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| Waiting for somebody to chase the darkness out
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| And I keep on waiting for time to slow down
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| And I keep on hoping for love to come around
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| And I don’t know how to make sense of the things that I feel |