| Lost in the backstreets of my mind
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| Looking for those familiar roads
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| But the seasons change up there
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| The trees fall and flowers grow
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| And it makes me feel like I just don’t know
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| I don’t recognize these highways now
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| Old signs unfamiliar to me
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| Trying to uncover those lessons learned like where is home
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| And it makes me feel like I just don’t know
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| I think slow
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| And don’t know which way the wind is blowing
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| And I don’t know which way I’ll be going
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| So I raise up my hand and I try to make a plan
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| But I don’t understand
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| Watching my thoughts flutter away
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| Like butterflies when the fall turns to grey
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| But I cannot make them stay, they migrate
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| They leave me cold
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| And it makes me feel like I just don’t know
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| Look in the mirror and avoid my gaze
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| 'Cause a stranger’s face is studying me
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| I can’t recollect his dreams
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| I trace him back about twelve years or so
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| And it just makes me feel like I just don’t know
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| I think slow
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| Well, I don’t know which way the wind is blowing
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| And I don’t know which way I’ll be going
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| So I raise up my hand and I try to make a plan
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| But I don’t understand what it takes to be a man
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| To be a man
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| To be a man
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| To be a man
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| To be a man
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| To be a man
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| To be a man
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| To be a man
|
| So I raise up my hand and I try to make a plan
|
| But I don’t understand what it takes to be a man
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| To be a man
|
| To be a man
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| To be a man |