| They put my hands in water
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| Told me I’m a god
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| I might be someone’s daughter
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| Might be somewhat odd
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| But I was wild once
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| And I can’t forget it
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| I was wild, chasing stones
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| The martyr who feels the fire
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| And the child who knows his name
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| They remember that there’s something wild
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| And it’s something you can’t explain
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| Oh it’s something you can’t explain
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| They are wild
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| And they can’t forget it
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| They are wild, chasing stones
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| It’s hard if you can’t change it
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| It’s worse if you don’t try
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| You will sit down to explain it
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| And you’re constantly asking why
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| You are constantly asking why
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| Well, you are wild
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| And you must remember
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| You are wild, chasing stones
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| Does no one understand you?
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| Is that tired and familial long?
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| You must change what hands you
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| Give me something to go on
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| Give me something to go on
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| You are wild
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| And I won’t forget it
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| You are wild, chasing stones
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| Well there is something just beneath
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| There is something just beneath
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| Something shy and hard to see
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| It’s a ring that is clean
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| It’s a ring |