| I occupy these feet with these dead arms and these dead legs
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| The brambles catch and tighten and they pull me into bed
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| This is no retaliation — this is the universe
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| I imagine myself walking here 5 million years before…
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| I’m so intrigued by this one — it’s sharp around the sides
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| There’s a danger to your loving, and my loves been compromised
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| I have been out walking with these Dead Arms & Dead Legs
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| And the mysteries of the universe are patterned in my head
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| The terrain becomes unbearable — too steep to stick your heel
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| I imagine myself here again in 50 million years
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| I run to the left… I run to the right
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| And all my fears become a life
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| And what is left… and who are you in the end?
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| I demonstrate my actions in the grace of your defeat
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| And all things that were left unsaid internally repeat
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| And the pain becomes tyrannical — 400 tonnes of shame
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| As I walk into a perfect storm again
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| I take the burden on myself
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| I run to the left… I run to the right
|
| And all my fears become a life
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| And what is left… and who are you in the end?
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| I’ve entertained their feeling maybe once but never twice
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| And you feel the world is ending, nothing else can suffice
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| If it fills that void you bear, if that something wasn’t free
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| How can I begin to blame you, you are the prisoner in me?
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| So I run to the left… I run to the right
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| And all my fears are so alive
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| And what is left… and who are you in the end?
|
| I run to the left… I run to the right
|
| And all my fears are so alive
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| And what is left… and who are we in the end? |