| I never know where I stand.
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| Which level I belong.
|
| There’s history here, it dies with me,
|
| The show won’t go on.
|
| But I always find myself back.
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| Red to green and in between,
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| My reputation feeds me.
|
| I still remember my first time with Armor in Hell,
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| But somehow I planned my escape to Heaven.
|
| I know everything I’ve done has lead me here
|
| But I’m not scared to go.
|
| Lift up everything I own
|
| And I’ll climb up.
|
| Like a fake we’re the actors
|
| Dishonouring the stage.
|
| But we won’t hide our faces.
|
| This masquerade remains to be seen.
|
| So if we die out before we are through,
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| Did we really believe?
|
| I know everything I’ve done has lead me here
|
| But I’m not scared to go.
|
| Lift up everything I own
|
| And I’ll climb up.
|
| As I pondered in silence, motionless in the Georgian heat
|
| I realized nothing would ever be the same.
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| And at that moment I knew I could never replicate that feeling
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| Without destroying something I loved.
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| Wisdom, justice, moderation.
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| Slow down when you’re trying to speak the words don’t come clearly.
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| The letters spelling out, the spirits spilling out their guts.
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| Open the doors and show us who we are.
|
| I know everything I’ve done has lead me here
|
| But I’m not scared to go.
|
| Lift up everything I own
|
| And I’ll climb up. |