| And as it gets dark in this house of hallways
|
| And no corridor leads to the stairs
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| With still wet black paint on all the windows
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| We got no clocks cause time don’t care here
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| So tell me your name young noble stranger
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| And tell me just what we’re doing here
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| Have you painted walls with all the answers
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| Have you hidden doors with all our fears
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| Cause the soul’s rock hard but the heart’s trapped underneath
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| And the weight of it all gets enough just to crush the best out of you and me
|
| But I swear that there’s someone who cares here enough to set us free
|
| And if the world don’t turn just enough to bring her honest
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| Then I guess we’re better off forgotten
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| The walls stay too thin in this house of hallways
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| They let through the echoes and the stares
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| And they’ll bleed bright red with scribbled riddles
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| Scratched out of their panels by angered air
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| Cause God knows I’ve made all my own choices
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| And if I drown alone it’s cause I choose
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| To spend my time drinking in the stairwells
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| When we’ve both got way too much to prove
|
| Cause the soul’s rock hard but the heart’s trapped underneath
|
| And the weight of it all gets enough just to crush the best out of you and me
|
| But I swear that there’s someone who cares here enough to set us free
|
| And if the world don’t turn just enough to bring her honest
|
| Then I guess we’re better off forgotten |