| I’m on a night train, from Moscow to St. Petersburg
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| Right outside the wall in the bleeding world
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| With the biggest band-aid can’t' make the blood stop
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| Part of the Fort but at the same time not
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| In the, blooming valleys of hopes and aspiration
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| Dreams are crushed by dope and desperation
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| 'Cause the West is blinded by the Fort and
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| Corrupted by fame, money and fortune
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| Kids kidnapped by rich pimps
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| So that we can live out our sick dreams
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| Stabbed in the back, tortured and raped
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| Can’t go back home 'cause they’re so ashamed, uh
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| It’s a metaphor for the whole process
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| The poor take the losses while we make more profits
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| In a world where the winner takes it all
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| And happiness only appears in sitcoms
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| We’re crossing the landscape and forcing the speed
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| The beat is meditative and I’m falling asleep
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| And when I wake up the train is at the station and
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| People rushing out I hear’em questioning life
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| Again and again wondering like
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| Why am I here? |
| I don’t know man I’m stuck in limbo
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| Watching how the things go flashing by
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| Why am I here? |
| You don’t know looking out the window
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| In a different lingo asking why
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| Why am I here? |
| They know 'cause our fingerprints show
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| Or they think so, I travel light
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| Why am I here? |
| On a night train, on a night train
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| I’m on a night train from Copenhagen to Berlin
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| Early on the morning my head hurting from the bourbon
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| She’s in the shower, in an hour we’re on top of the fort
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| We’re they be shopping for sport, but we be searching
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| For something new with babysteps
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| One day, I might take her for a walk down the isle
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| But there’s many rivers to cross and my lady says:
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| Okay, we ain’t had a chance to talk for a while and I
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| Know you love the feeling of leaving but it don’t matter what country
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| Or what region of Sweden
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| All we got is us, and this is what I truly believe in
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| So I don’t know 'bout you, I ain’t runnin'
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| I’ma find freedom in our everyday, life
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| And make the most out of it
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| We don’t know this might take us both out
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| If the train run off the track, crash and burn
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| We sat side by side, awaiting our turn
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| And I’m smiling, you’re right, but still…
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| Why am I here? |
| I don’t know girl I’m stuck in limbo
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| Watching everything go flashing by
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| Why am I here? |
| You don’t know looking out the window
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| In a different lingo asking why
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| Why am I here? |
| But they know 'cause our fingerprints show
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| Or they think so, I travel light
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| Why am I here? |
| On a night train, on a night train
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| I’m on a night train from Tangier to Marrakech
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| I ain’t a rap star here man I don’t speak Arabic
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| They looking at me like hell does he do here?
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| But in a curious way, they celebrate new year’s
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| We had to escape the fort, living close to the border
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| What are we waiting for? |
| Two hours from Algeciras, Spain
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| The port, the same, sunny beaches at the same resorts
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| That wash up refugees that they can’t deport
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| Immigration officer fill out a blank report
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| Family; |
| unknown, where to send the corpse?
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| Wanna restart their life instead they end it off
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| And the train keeps running down the line
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| And the world keeps flashin' by the window
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| Like we runnin' out of time, it’s a feeling of freedom mixed
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| With the feeling of being trapped
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| I feel like we travel to beat the map
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| Stop the time, slam the brakes, jump out the frame
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| Find a new place without a name
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| New, at least to the white man, untouched and clean
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| I, soon find out a man, ain’t no such a thing
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| And the further we travel it begins to unravel
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| How the Europeans always wanted to be the king of the castle
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| And how it effects all continents, how we lost respect and all common sense
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| And the question remains:
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| Why am I here? |
| I don’t know man I’m stuck in limbo
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| Watching how the things go passing by
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| Why am I here? |
| You don’t know sittin' by the window
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| In a different lingo askin':
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| Why am I here? |
| They know 'cause our fingerprints show
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| Or they think so, I travel light
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| Why am I here? |
| On a night train, well all right then
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| On the night train… come on! |