| Nobody asked you to be what you are,
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| Nobody told you to go quite so far,
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| Sometimes they need more then you have to give.
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| Everyone demands the ultimate gift
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| And each fragile moment of every long day
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| You’re frightened of failure in each word you say
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| Your wives and your children
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| Family and friends will persecute you for each small accident
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| And nothing can save you, no one forgives, your were buried in
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| Envy the moment that you lived.
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| And running and hiding will do you no good
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| Praying is wasted you misunderstood
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| That the rules of the game were the ones that you laid all those long years ago
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| When you heedlessly played at the role of creator from cradle till grave,
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| So suffer in silence you will never be saved.
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| And all of the answers washed out on the sand
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| On a far distant shore of some unnamed dark land
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| Where the science of reason cannot yet expand
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| On the gospel of the martyrs, the nails in their hands,
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| Crashing gracelessly forward through forward through debris of fate
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| To the last bitter chapter the terminal gate
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| The chains that you fashioned you strain just to stand
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| Stumbling slowly surely into your own no man’s land. |