| There’s a million, billion, trillion stars but I’m down here low
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| Fussin' over scars on my soul, on my soul, on my soul, on my soul
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| On my soul, I am so infinitesimal, oh
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| They say it started with a big bang
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| But they say it came out of a small thing
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| Lately I’m feeling like a big bang
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| ‘Cause I’ve been making something out of nothing… Like my soul
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| Millions and billions and trillions of stars but I’m down here low
|
| Fussin' over scars on my soul, on my soul, on my soul, on my soul
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| On my soul, I am so infinitesimal, oh
|
| They say it started with a big bang
|
| But they say it was really just a small thing
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| Strangely I’m feeling like a big bang
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| ‘Cause I’ve been making mountains out of concaves
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| Do you ever really think about the grains?
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| Every little one’s got a million things
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| Every little bit’s got a billion bits, and that ain’t it, no that ain’t it
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| And did you know that when you really get close
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| Nothing really touches, bro, just kind of floats?
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| So when you think it might just come to blows
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| Just so you know, it won’t, cause it can’t, bro
|
| There’s a million, billion, trillion stars but I’m down here low
|
| Fussin' over scars on my soul, on my soul, on my soul, on my soul
|
| On my soul, I am so infinitesimal, oh
|
| They say it started with a big bang
|
| But they say it was really just a small thing
|
| Strangely I’m feeling like a big bang
|
| ‘Cause I’ve been making something out of nothing
|
| Like my soul, just like my soul, you think it’s so infinitesimal |