| I used to come here
|
| Textiles all over, and lamps
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| And colours of centuries flash from the stands
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| Do not lose my hand now
|
| We’re in a tempest of sound
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| Our stranger wind brought us here from afar
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| A journey through lightning ending now
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| A song made of light spreading around
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| I just wanna end this ride
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| That life has turned into this rusting pile of pipes
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| Cos I believe that there is more than meets the eye
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| In this script of anger
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| Brought to tears until the Sun died
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| And a journey through lightning ending now
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| A song made of light spreading around
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| A million eyelids closing down, A million eyes
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| I saw the files that they have on me
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| I saw the chambers of new bright opinions they sewn in your flash
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| I saw the files that she has on me, setting this astral conjunction against
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| All the reasons and odds
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| I used to come here
|
| Storms have swept it apart
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| A swirl of memories hitting the land, with the wind and the sand
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| Do not lose my hand now
|
| We’re in a ‘lager' of sound
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| Which brought us here in a light-year of bleeding and screaming and cries |