| Each day the light gets born
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| From the body of the night I’m torn
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| Into the blaze of the sun lit morn I’m thrown
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| So I do what I can
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| With a beating heart and my own two hands
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| And a thirst to understand this show
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| And in the halls I hear it sung
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| The youth is wasted on the young
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| And these are words that can weigh a ton you know
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| But one day you’ll know what they meant
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| When you wonder where the wonder went
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| And all the world is sinking like a stone
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| We are the lucky ones
|
| You mothers daughters you fathers sons
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| Don’t you grow old before your time
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| We are the holy rollers
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| Who take this weight upon our shoulders
|
| And make the best out of life
|
| Each night when the darkness dawns
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| And from the troubles of the day I’m drawn
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| Into the solace of the quiet song that grows
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| In everything I hear and see
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| And through the smoke in the air I breathe
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| And over arms that cover me like home
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| And on the streets where you hear it said
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| Our last hopes have long been dead
|
| That’s just the noise ringing in your head you know
|
| We are the lucky ones
|
| You mothers daughters you fathers sons
|
| Don’t you grow old before your time
|
| We are the holy rollers
|
| We take this weight upon our shoulders
|
| And make the best out of life |