| Gray skies gray, black white
|
| Hope is just red inside
|
| Clouds rain paint of mute rays
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| Of black and gray skies on white sunlight
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| In dreams of aster waves as delicate as they seem
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| Now back to reality
|
| Gray skies gray, black white
|
| Hope is just red inside
|
| As we partake in meaning
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| Sound is just like a god
|
| Modified wrong
|
| What we hear spawns
|
| Thoughts we take wrong
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| Synchronize
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| Take us back
|
| Such is life
|
| Why would we ever think twice?
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| This failure lives on
|
| Gloom hears our envy
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| Mass cheers are sending ghostly fabrications
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| I fall this distanc of an early grave
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| As accidental wings sprout whn doubt and fear are found
|
| And an early change seemingly makes its appearance
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| Blackest eyes as they glow from inside the storm
|
| Tell me to beware this alternate route
|
| Sound is just like a god
|
| Modified wrong
|
| What we hear spawns
|
| Thoughts we take wrong
|
| Modified wrong
|
| Synchronized all of our faults
|
| As the bolts punch drains in me
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| To let it all out as I turn myself around
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| Torn, but with the holes that entered now showing
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| You left a mark now glowing
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| In a place where darkness thrives
|
| You’ll be recognized as someone with hope
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| With the holes that entered now showing
|
| You left a mark now glowing
|
| In a place where darkness thrives
|
| You’ll be recognized as someone with hope |