| You said «come on, let’s go down that yellow brick road»
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| But that path was primrose and led back to black and white
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| And now I know, since that day you chose to let me know
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| My hearts been tangled with thorns that choke the light
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| Oh, here I go, collecting roses to me from you
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| Oh, here I go, a dozen red for every wound
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| Oh, now I stop and smell the roses when they’re blue
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| Gonna find my way, break the lock on the emerald city gates
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| It could be simple, but we’re only half-awake
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| I feel the pain set in when I think of you and grip the stems
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| I feel my head begin to spin, I’m not alright
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| Oh, here I go, collecting roses to me from you
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| Oh, here I go, a dozen red for every wound
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| Oh, now I stop and smell the roses when they’re blue
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| Let go of the stems, free to bloom again
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| Let go of the stems, free to bloom again
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| Oh, here I go, collecting roses to me from you
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| Oh, here I go, a dozen red for every wound
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| Oh, now I stop and smell the roses when they’re blue
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| (Stop, stop, stop…)
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| Let go of the stems, free to bloom again
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| Free to bloom again when they’re blue |