| In a world of cynics and egos
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| where you walk a road made of glass
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| Everyone’s a walking placebo
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| Everyone’s so jaded and crass
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| Fading so fast
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| But when you lift up your face
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| and deliver that radiant glow
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| Well you could light up the streets with the warmth of your magical soul
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| When the kids are all out of fashion
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| When the songs are barren and blue
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| When the voice is drained of all passion
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| Maybe this world’s waiting for you
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| Waiting for you
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| But when you lift up your face
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| and deliver that radiant glow
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| Well you could light up the streets with the warmth of your magical soul
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| Could this be a moment of magic to silence the fools?
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| Could this be the moment of truth?
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| In a moment of magic, you spin things around, in a moment
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| Could this be the moment of truth?
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| In a moment of magic, the walls tumble down, in a moment
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| Could this be the moment of truth?
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| In a moment of magic, you spin things around, in a moment
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| Could this be the moment of truth?
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| In a moment of magic, the walls tumble down, in a moment
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| Could this be the moment of truth? |