| I’ve woken again in an ocean of salt
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| Drenched from recurring
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| Dreams of such horror
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| They haunt my evenings
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| Nightmares of a future so absurd
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| This fantasy of events could never occur
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| Such vivid imagery has me
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| Blurring all kinds of lines
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| Between here and reality
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| Billboards have replaced all window panes
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| Faith is less a feeling and more a mandate
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| Fed up are the sun and the moon
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| They’re burning up and leaving soon, soon, soon
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| My twisted imagination
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| It has a mind of its own
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| So wake me from this dream
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| My crooked precognition
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| Its distance from the truth grows
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| Please wake me from this dream
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| Where there’s an answer for everything
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| Hiding behind child-proof plastic locks
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| And under cotton swabs
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| There’s a medicine for every ill
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| If the money’s right
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| The pain can be drowned with a bitter pill
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| All the women are paper thin
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| Their necks barely hold up their heads
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| Boys have been trained
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| And prepared since birth
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| To serve their role
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| And fight until their death, death, death
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| My twisted imagination
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| It has a mind of its own
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| So wake me from this dream
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| My crooked precognition
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| Its distance from the truth grows
|
| Please wake me from this dream
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| My twisted imagination
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| It has a mind of its own
|
| My crooked precognition
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| Its distance from the truth grows
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| Please save me from this dream
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| It’s only a fabrication
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| This place is all in my head
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| It’s only a fabrication
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| This place is all in my head
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| I rub my eyes to find
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| This whole time
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| I thought I was in a slumber
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| They’ve been open wide |