| The dawn of all is the birth of our lives
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| We struggle to fill our lungs with air that we are breathing
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| Searching for ways, time goes by and our quest begins
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| Still don’t know who we are… after all
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| Calling to mind all the years that passed by
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| All of our kind have to tell their own story
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| Hiding behind what we want to be — still believe
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| In what we want to be — ourselves — see ourselves
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| In a run steady stressed for the top so we can be blessed
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| Trying to reach the stars that seem to be fading
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| The nearer we get the more the distance is growing
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| And from my core deep in some painful anger is roaring
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| Hold back my tears, may be the wrong way I know
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| Why should I keep them back
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| Isn’t weakness a strong part of me
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| Let out my tears to give that world what I need to live
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| What I need to live… to cry out what I really am
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| Physical age means not growing in mind
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| The marks and scars on my skin, they will guide me
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| But what lays in me?
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| Maybe I don’t know it myself
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| Unspoken and not solved
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| Experienced but not involved |