| The lights in the dark have gone out
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| And the purchased happiness has already disappeared
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| The next day is always melancholy
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| That breaks the magic of another life
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| The strength that binds you is greater than you
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| The ring around the neck tightens more and more
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| Don't blame the world or her anymore
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| For the sad renunciation of what you are not ...
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| You know what it's like to stay for days
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| To throw only nothing away into nothing
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| You do a thousand things, but they are always your thoughts
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| Who choose for you differently
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| I am tired of having said the things I will say
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| I've already done the things I'm going to do
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| But it's late, too late, to cry now
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| On the sad renunciation of what you don't do ...
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| I thought uncertainty was a possibility
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| And the constant doubt is the only reason
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| But what choices did you make in complete freedom
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| You always move inside a prison ...
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| It is not the light or the dark nor the I was and I will be
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| It is not the courage that makes you say "I will live"
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| It's just another excuse you want to use
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| For the sad renunciation of what you cannot ...
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| I don't want to take anything if I don't know I'm giving
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| I and who knows who decide what I can
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| I don't have the will or the strength to be able to change myself
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| And the world that lives on me ...
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| And maybe I'm dying and I don't know how to understand
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| Or I understood it and I don't want to say it
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| Things remain without false or true
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| And the sad renunciation of what I was ... |