| There’s some things I don’t have now
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| Some things I don’t talk about
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| These things are between myself and I
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| In my thick skull the joker hides
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| There’s consequences I’m scared to taste
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| Cold hard truths I can’t face
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| These days are different than the past
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| Reflections change in the looking glass
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| And everywhere I look there’s something to learn
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| A sliver of truth from every bridge we burn
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| A hatful of quarters and a naked song
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| Don’t answer the question of where we belong
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| How come birds
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| Don’t fall from the sky when they die?
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| How come birds
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| Always look for a quiet place to hide
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| These words
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| Can’t explain what I feel inside?
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| Like birds I need a quiet place to hide
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| These independent moves I make
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| This confidence I try to fake
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| You can hear the beating of my heart
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| But not a feather falling in the dark
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| And everything I hear never makes any sense
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| Another old prophet perched on the fence
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| A cupful of pencils and a self help guru
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| Don’t answer the question of what I am to you |