| My brother’s hands built distant lands
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| From the forests and the shorelines of his mind
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| He never let me or my Josephine
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| Catch a glance at the canvas that took all of his time
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| Until the day we heard the crash
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| And they came in through the backdoor as he screamed
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| «Don't let them take what I designed»
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| We saw the world that he had made
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| As he vanished through the paint
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| And his hand reached out to pull us safe inside
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| They caught me as I placed her down in New York City streets
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| Love roared as they pulled me back
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| And tears fell from her cheeks and she said
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| «When you let go, where will I be?»
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| I broke down and said, «I'll be shackled, you’ll be free»
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| You’re free
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| I was put to work, told to pick her world apart
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| Turn her colors to arithmetic
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| And code the paintings heart
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| Chained me to a wall so I could never fall
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| In the memories that haunted me
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| And echoed through the halls
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| Dangled dreams in front of me
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| Keep me running on the wheel
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| Programmed like the rest of them to never think or feel
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| They caught me as I placed her down in New York City streets |
| Love roared as they pulled me back
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| And tears fell from her cheeks and she said
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| «When you let go, where will I be?»
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| And I broke down and said, «Love is shackles, you’ll be free»
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| Be free |