| Although, it’s a dream living on the road
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| With wide eyes heading towards places unknown
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| But sometimes, sometimes it’s so cold
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| When the faces here lack the compassion of home
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| I lie awake, in a rusted euro-van
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| With people who hurt inside and find it hard to hide it at this time
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| And the people I know back home
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| Say they envy the road I’m on
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| But how could they know
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| There’s never been a time I felt so low
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| And Suddenly I feel like I can’t get up
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| Something comes over me
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| And I fell incomplete
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| Day and night I stay alone in a crowd
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| Longing friendship though old friends are around
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| So how, how could it be so
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| Well there’s no unity in this dream
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| I reached for it and found out its fiction
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| What a mistake to be here now
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| What a mistake to be here now
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| Incomplete actions are all that I’ve found
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| Poisoning everyone and thing that’s around
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| Only hope carries me from town to town
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| Were still I find I’m just alone in a crowd
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| Of locals having a time that I wish I knew
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| And unlike me they’ll have a home to go to
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| Unlike me
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| Man its fiction
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| Suddenly I feel like I can’t get up
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| Something comes over me
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| And I fell incomplete
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| So now I just lay here
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| 'cause everything I had is dead inside this van |