| Born into confusion,
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| Where infant eyes deceive,
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| I reach to my reflection,
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| But is it really me,
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| I cant see the wind blow,
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| But I can feel the breeze,
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| Its coming through my window,
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| Its moving all around me,
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| And I cant see the Hand no,
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| That pulls me to my knees,
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| But when I meet my shadow,
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| I see gravity,
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| Theres comfortable illusion,
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| To hide reality,
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| And shame for those who believe,
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| In things they cannot see,
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| I cant see the wind blow,
|
| But I can feel the breeze,
|
| Its coming through my window,
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| Its moving all around me,
|
| And I cant see the Hand no,
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| That pulls me to my knees,
|
| But when I meet my shadow
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| I see gravity, |