| Walk a line between day and night
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| Natures clock, a way to keep things in order
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| But only half of us wake up at the right time
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| In the morning there’s a mirror in the hallway
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| That you stare in, displaying an image
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| A reflection of all the choices made
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| All the time you’ve invested in things other than yourself
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| From the hallway to the living room
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| Think it over slow, there’s a window that daylight hits
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| When it’s open you can hear it, the chaos in the streets
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| Every day routine sounds just like how today feels; |
| familiar
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| Then the night strikes and you’ll find things to be different
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| You can feel it, so careless and free, so dark and poisoning
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| The night, warm blood and high spirits
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| At the time, the low light fit us perfect
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| Like the shade of your face under dim light
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| It kept me staring until the shade departs, when the day arrives
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| And I’m exposed to everything
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| The imperfections, the truth and lies
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| Light and dark, neither can survive at the same time
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| Only one lets you see
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| There’s beauty in survival, there’s beauty in leaving |