| I’m pulled down by the groundswell
|
| I’m lost deep in this cave
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| I grip tight to the guide rope
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| Still praying I can change
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| Some people swear by folk law
|
| But I think we are made of other stuff
|
| I dreamed I held the blackbird in my palm
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| Cause to fly, that’s enough.
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| So march me to the frontline
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| Stand still in lines of fire
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| I reaching for the silence
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| The centre of this pyre
|
| Some people swear by folk law
|
| But I think we are made of other stuff
|
| I dreamed I held the blackbird in my palm
|
| Cause to fly, that’s enough,
|
| Yes to fly, that’s enough.
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| I’ll hide you from destruction
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| If you shade me from all pain
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| And we’ll cut these ropes that hold us down
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| Balloons drifting out in space
|
| Some people swear by folk law
|
| But I think we are made of other stuff
|
| I dreamed I held the blackbird as my god
|
| Cause to fly, that’s enough,
|
| Yes to fly, that’s enough,
|
| Cause to fly, that’s enough. |