| We need a myth
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| We need an amethyst bridge
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| We need a high hanging cliff
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| Jump, fall and lift
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| We can make it
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| But we need a myth
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| We need a path through the mist
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| Like in our beds, we were just kids
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| Like what was said by our parents
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| A myth
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| Guess what we’re after is just this
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| A myth
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| Guess what we’re after is just this
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| We need a myth
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| I feel my heart’s like a fist
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| Words spilling out of the blessed lips
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| Of any prophet or goddess
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| I need a myth
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| Brought back to life by a kiss
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| Scrape away grey cement
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| Show me the world as it was again
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| As it was in a myth
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| A red ribbon to reconnect
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| The lady’s head to her neck
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| And to forget that her throat was ever slit
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| Guess what we’re after is just this
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| It’s a myth
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| Guess what we’re after is just this
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| And I’m sick of all these picture books that try
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| To steal some old reflections for their light
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| But desperate measures point to desperate times
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| And that’s why
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| We need a myth
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| We’re cut adrift
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| We need a mass uplift
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| The world is trembling and weeping
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| Just at the point of believing
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| In a myth
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| The sun that shines on my head
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| The moon that lights me to bed
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| Were two identical twins
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| Inside of a myth
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| I heard the voice of a friend
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| On Lethe’s banks, wading in
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| And he said, «Before I forget»
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| We need a myth
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| As we lean in to kiss
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| To get two nails through the wrist
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| To get covered in blood
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| And to get covered in spit
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| And to forgive
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| And if all we’re taught is a trick
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| Why would this feeling persist?
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| And with the truth closing in
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| I must insist
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| We need a myth |