| Never quite sure about his placement or where he’s been in this pink world or
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| why nothing ever made sense
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| He knew that he had loved and had been loved
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| But had no chronological order to place it (so confusing)
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| All he knew was that he woke up everyday
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| Bleeding with amnesia and the case of new memories that he had tendencies to
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| mistake for fiction (she saw)
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| So everyday he journeyed to the mountain to recover his past
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| In order to understand his future (I can’t remember all this)
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| She loves him but she eventually killed him (pow, pow, pow, pow)
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| Now listen, Syre was a mischief with a vision but
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| His most poetic trait was his wisdom (where you goin'?)
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| His mind was as bright and as pink as the city that he lived in
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| And the only kids that could live in this bliss were the outcasts,
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| the misfits (why did you leave?)
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| Those were his companions
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| Even though they could never understand his struggles through these harsh lands,
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| he gave them the upper hand of his emotional tantrums
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| Syre, passion, pain and desire
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| Just like my big bro
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| What you didn’t know is this young kid’s been in limbo since that gunshot wound
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| on that hidden road
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| Lost, broken, invisible
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| But when that light gets slow he’s invincible (time)
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| So much so, that he redefines inevitable
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| So it’ll never go (brace yourself)
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| It seems as though the sun wouldn’t set at all
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| Instead of setting slow, she lies to him and said she’d never let him go
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| (you're a liar)
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| And as the legend goes
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| Syre lived forever on and never and forever alone (Syre)
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| Syre (I can’t remember all this, I love you)
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| (A beautiful confusion, I’m Syre) |