| I fought my feelings and got in the way
|
| Could’ve been easier like a decade of days
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| Projection, young marriage, lighting the stage
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| I wanted feelings, that got in my own way
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| Then wrote that letter that had nothing to say
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| Staccato vision like a kingdom of days
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| All lonely, or not lonely, century away
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| But still a vision as if help’s on its way
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| Someone who will lead you to someone
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| Who will lead you to someone
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| Who will lead you to the one
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| At the end of the century
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| The air is clearer a decade away
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| Singing to a mountain that was empty all along
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| All lonely, young marriage lighting the way
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| She wanted feelings that got in her own way
|
| Someone who will lead you to someone
|
| Who will lead you to someone
|
| Who will lead you to the one
|
| At the end of the century
|
| Someone who will lead you to someone
|
| Who will lead you to someone
|
| Who will lead you to the one
|
| At the end of the century
|
| Someone who will lead you to someone
|
| Who will lead you to someone
|
| Who will lead you to the one
|
| At the end of the century
|
| A century, how long is that?
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| Three billion, one hundred and fifty five million
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| Nine hundred and seventy three thousand, six hundred seconds
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| Eight hundred and seventy six million hours
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| Or thirty six thousand, five hundred days
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| Almost as long as one of those endless dark nights of the soul
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| Those nights that never end
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| When you believe you’ll never see the sun rise again
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| When a single second feels like a century
|
| A century
|
| A century
|
| A century
|
| A century
|
| A century
|
| A century
|
| A century
|
| A century
|
| A century |