| In my early years I hid my tears
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| And passed my days alone
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| Adrift on an ocean of loneliness
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| My dreams like nets were thrown
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| To catch the love that I’d heard of
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| In books and films and songs
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| Now there’s a world of illusion and fantasy
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| In the place where the real world belongs
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| Still I look for the beauty in songs
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| To fill my head and lead me on
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| Though my dreams have come up torn and empty
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| As many times as love has come and gone
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| To those gentle ones my memory runs
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| To the laughter we shared at the meals
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| I filled their kitchens and living rooms
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| With my schemes and my broken wheels
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| It was never clear how far or near
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| The gates to my citadel lay
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| They were cutting from stone some dreams of their own
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| But they listened to mine anyway
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| I’m not sure what I’m trying to say
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| It could be I’ve lost my way
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| Though I keep a watch over the distance
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| Heaven’s no closer than it was yesterday
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| And the angels are older
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| They know not to wait up for the sun
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| They look over my shoulder
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| At the maps and the drawings of the journey I’ve begun
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| Now the distance leads me farther on
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| Though the reasons I once had are gone
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| I keep thinking I’ll find what I’m looking for
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| In the sand beneath the dawn
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| But the angels are older
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| They can see that the sun’s setting fast
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| They look over my shoulder
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| At the vision of paradise contained in the light of the past
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| And they lay down behind me
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| To sleep beside the road till the morning has come
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| Where they know they will find me
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| With my maps and my faith in the distance
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| Moving farther on |