| Your eyes they conjure up those Cliffs of Moher,
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| Far away and not listening anymore,
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| Dreaming of life on another shore,
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| Not here, not now, with me, the bore.
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| So I stop talking and fade to bleak,
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| Feeling insignifi cant, atrophied and weak.
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| Even though it’s not who I know myself to be,
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| The Queen, the Confi dence,
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| Doesn’t speak.
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| But I was 14 with my passion,
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| And 15 with my best.
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| 16 with my ego,
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| And zero with the rest.
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| My heart is a P.O.W. |
| tangled in my chest,
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| I don’t know how to communicate in a cardiac arrest.
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| Your eyes they drown me in your sadness.
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| Your words they bring hurricanes.
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| Braving Shakespearean tempest,
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| The Mighty Tiger,
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| Doesn’t blink.
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| I think I found the one,
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| Silent suffering inside.
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| The one who got away,
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| I was too dangerous to hide.
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| So I stop talking, baby, cause you always want me to shut up.
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| Take the center stage meanwhile I become your trusted, silent prop.
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| So take good care, this mighty woman’s ready to explode,
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| Fire here below the surface of my volcano. |