| We’re all wundering, wandering on as if to be something is the most important
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| thing.
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| We’re all wundering, stumbling around with no direction but acting as though
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| we’ve found the connection.
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| We’re all wundering, that’s our passion our drive our will to live wrapped in a
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| bundle of life.
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| We’re all wundering, wondering who’s in control of our soul.
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| And those who have that answer have peace about forever’s unknown.
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| We’re all wundering.
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| When will I come home physically or mentally.
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| Constantly staying in my best interests hopelessly.
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| Aimlessly wandering like a nomad.
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| No, I’m not mad just a man without sand to call my own.
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| But it’s not really about that.
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| It’s not really that I’m ever sad because I’m not.
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| And it’s not really because I’m glad because I just happened to forget why it
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| is that I do this.
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| Look at me but not really.
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| Trying to give it all out transparently.
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| Trying too hard I guess to see the sea at hand.
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| Drink it all in even though I shouldn’t, and I know that I really couldn’t ever
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| pull away.
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| And everyone seems to know that I won’t be here to stay, but I will of course.
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| See, this is where I’m at even though it’s not where I began,
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| and this is where I’ll be forever here with or without my own sand.
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| Some people might look at me and I can see what they say.
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| Most individuals judge in their heads and then turn their heads and walk away.
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| To be like a child and not know any better.
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| To be like I’m young again would just be so much better.
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| My mind tells me I’m tired, tired of waiting tired of dreaming.
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| Telling me soon that everything I see will expire, but I’m too young to retire.
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| I got my whole life ahead of me, that’s what I always hear.
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| I see so-called opportunities flash in front of me, and I just don’t feel fear.
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| But I probably should.
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| I probably won’t go anywhere but I know I could.
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| If I’d just apply myself and rise to where it’s blue.
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| These words are a reminder of what I used to be,
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| what I could be, and what I am because of you. |