| Eyes and ears open to whom I may meet
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| Questions and answers, smile and repeat
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| Tattoos form stories we all can endear
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| But I’d much rather hear what you love and you fear
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| A personal list caused by one little kiss
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| A tear from a loved one, a glare to a fist
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| All have their endings and I’ve had my share
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| It’s too bad I sing to repair
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| Sometimes I walk just to see
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| Who passes me by, passes me by
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| Faces and places they go
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| Become things I write, things that I write
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| Sometimes I feel like a ghost
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| Who longs for a life, longs for a life again
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| But then I remember the faces
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| That put out my light, the faces that lied
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| And then I know why
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| An outfit that falls by the waist
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| A plan in it’s place
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| My heart won it’s very first race
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| Held, but I feel out of touch
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| Enough is enough
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| Every why needs a what
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| And every what needs a
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| Who, what, where, why is it
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| I sit by quiet while lives live their lows
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| And the highs are all blown by the wind
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| If you sing from within
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| Tears roll down your chin and you feel it again
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| Sometimes I walk just to see
|
| Who passes me by, passes me by
|
| Faces and places they go
|
| Become things I write, things that I write
|
| Sometimes I feel like a ghost
|
| Who longs for a life, longs for a life again
|
| But then I remember the faces
|
| That put out my light, the faces that lied
|
| And then I know why
|
| Sometimes I walk just to see
|
| Who passes me by, passes me by
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| Faces and places I’ve lost
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| All left behind, frozen in time |