| He could’ve tuned in, tuned in, but he tuned out
|
| A bad time, nothing could save him
|
| Alone in a corridor, waiting, locked out
|
| He got up outta there, ran for hundreds of miles
|
| He made it to the ocean, had a smoke in a tree
|
| The wind rose up, set him down on his knee
|
| A wave came crashing like a fist to the jaw
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| Delivered him wings, «Hey, look at me now»
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| Arms wide open with the sea as his floor
|
| Oh, power, oh
|
| He’s. |
| flying
|
| Whole
|
| High. |
| wide, oh
|
| He floated back down cause he wanted to share
|
| His key to the locks on the chains he saw everywhere
|
| But first he was stripped and then he was stabbed by faceless men
|
| Well, fuckers, he still stands
|
| And he still gives his love, he just gives it away
|
| The love he receives is the love that is saved
|
| And sometimes is seen a strange spot in the sky
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| A human being that was given to fly |