| Some say love is a burning thing
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| That it makes a fiery ring
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| Oh but I know love as a fading thing
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| Just as fickle as a feather in a stream
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| See, honey, I saw love. |
| It came to me
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| It put its face up to my face so I could see
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| Yeah then I saw love disfigure me
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| Into something I am not recognizing
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| See, the cage, it called. |
| I said, «Come on in»
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| I will not open myself up this way again
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| Nor lay my face to the soil, nor my teeth to the sand
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| I will not lay like this for days now upon end
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| You will not see me fall, nor see me struggle to stand
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| To be acknowledge by some touch from his gnarled hands
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| You see, the cage, it called. |
| I said, «Come on in»
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| I will not open myself up this way again
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| You see, the moon is bright in that treetop night
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| I see the shadows that we cast in the cold, clean light
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| My feet are gold. |
| My heart is white
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| And we race out on the desert plains all night
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| See, honey, I am not some broken thing
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| I do not lay here in the dark waiting for thee
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| No my heart is gold. |
| My feet are light
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| And I am racing out on the desert plains all night
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| So some say love is a burning thing
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| That it makes a fiery ring
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| Oh but I know love as a caging thing
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| Just a killer come to call from some awful dream
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| O and all you folks, you come to see
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| You just stand there in the glass looking at me
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| But my heart is wild. |
| And my bones are steam
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| And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free
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| Oh, If I was free
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| I was free
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| If I was free
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| I was free
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| If I was free… free…
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| Oh, If I was free
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| I was free
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| If I was free… free… |