| I don’t know if it’s a green or blue
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| I don’t know if it’s in love with you
|
| That’s the prism of the senses
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| Yeah, that’s the prison of the senses
|
| Something far away has come to me
|
| I know the sum of the parts, the contingencies
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| I don’t know if it’s a picking at food
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| I would deny it, that I don’t know what is true
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| I take the time to refine a better run out to sea
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| The attitude, opportunity knocks
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| That’s the prism of the senses
|
| Yeah, that’s the prison of the senses
|
| When the fray is too big to unwind
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| and all the rain is the color of time
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| You demand that the whatsits is you
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| I say, Oh lord, I knew
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| While I lean on the remnants of a fractured plan
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| I will learn all the regions on the side of a can
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| That’s the prism of the senses
|
| Yeah, that’s the prison of the senses
|
| That’s the kingdom of the senses
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| Yeah, dowgie
|
| Yeah, dowgie |