| I’m turning out the lights
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| To remember how to see
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| Until a renaissance takes place
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| And resuscitates the color of paint and divinity
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| As if God hid the building blocks
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| Of every beautiful thing
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| In this game of hide and seek
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| I can’t help but think that ordinary has swallowed the key
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| Bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust
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| For a moment we get to be glorious
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| Ice sculptures adorned in light
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| Sand castles built tall in between the tides
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| Maybe I’m hiding behind metaphor
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| Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure
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| One day I’ll wear it all on my sleeve
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| The insignificant with the sacred unique
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| But I’ve fallen in love with a ghost
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| And I lost my balance when I needed it most
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| And this blurry photograph is proof
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| Of what I’m not sure but it feels like truth
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| I’m stuck swimming in shadows down here
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| It’s been forever since I came up for air
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| Flashlight in hand determined to find
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| Authenticity only poetry could even begin to try to describe
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| Bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust
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| For a moment we get to be glorious
|
| Get to be glorious
|
| Get to be glorious
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| What if we already are
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| Who we’ve been dying to become
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| In certain light I can plainly see
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| A reflection of magnificence
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| Hidden in you
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| Maybe even in me |