| the whole world lives inside my house
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| but I haven’t seen anyone in a while
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| shut my eyes as I walk across the street
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| to show that
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| I have faith in me
|
| I have faith in me
|
| I have faith in me
|
| I have faith in me
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| we have all tried building houses before
|
| watched them crumble in the scores
|
| broken the hammers and worn out the saws
|
| we only own what we buy, but when you’re old and alone that’s nothing at all
|
| we only reap what we sow, but when you’re dust, so is your crop
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| were all hiding in half a bottle
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| full when the struggle started
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| empty, when the battles over.
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| mine’s now empty but I feel far from battle-worn
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| just torn
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| bursting at the seams
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| never have I seen this light of day
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| as we take away from our dreams and change
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| I’m planning the next great escape
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| one where I can look myself in the face
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| the house we built is without a single crooked nail
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| what you should have done is not just a missed oppurtunity
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| but a disease that lingers
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| linger to long and it becomes an infected thorn
|
| to many thorns amounts to a
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| life
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| spent
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| counting
|
| them
|
| all
|
| I’m planning the next great escape
|
| we have all tried building houses before
|
| watched them crumble in the scores
|
| broken the hammers and worn out the saws
|
| we only own what we buy, when you’re old and alone thats nothing at all
|
| we only reap what we sow, when you’re dust, so is your crop |