| The hourglass never really runs out of sand
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| You get to the end and you just turn it upside down again
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| It’s like a book where the story never ends
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| The plot keeps turning around
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| I was dancing with my eyes closed
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| The music had me in a trance
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| Six o’clock in the morning came around
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| I was the last one at the dance
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| Boy, it takes a stiff upper lip
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| A turned-up collar and some very strong hips
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| A strong will for when the money slips
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| And they ain’t calling you a lady now
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| A sister told me some time ago
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| There’s no reward for lost sheep
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| You better learn to look sharp
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| Keep it in the lines
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| Don’t go swimming where the river’s too deep
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| But I knew all along that that just wasn’t me
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| I was swimming in the river with the ghosts and debris
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| Shouldn’t a person at least try to be free
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| Instead of giving up and just pretending to be?
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| The morning leaves you in a strange place
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| Dirty mirror and a stranger’s face
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| Nowhere to run, too late to back out of it
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| Might as well stick around and take a crack out of it
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| I heard it said many times that life is a dream
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| But it ends up dreaming of a crazy machine
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| That’s been choking out the love
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| Killing too many dreamers
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| And I just want to tear that old machine down
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| Ask me what what I would dream of in this place
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| I dream of a forest where we could all meet face-to-face
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| Where love could be love
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| And dreams could be dreamers
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| Dreamers dreaming of love and its many wonders
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| Dreamers dreaming of love, one more time now
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| Dreamers dreaming of love |