| So what if I told you I was speaking to the center for a while?
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| So what if in fact I was beat back? |
| and living in a fairy-tale
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| With all the creatures and preachers and all the sanity
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| Shaking their flashlights, control brats?
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| I know I never said it, but does it really matter
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| You’re paralyzed
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| But now I think it’s begun
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| Powers of the strange, looking for angels in the caves
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| Crumbling one to with the balance?
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| Under the wheels, she stays
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| Until we find a way up
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| Of getting off this thing, no matter what they say
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| I’ll open up a reason
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| I know I never said, but does it really matter
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| It’s not a fight
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| The hours are compatible, tell me there’s a reason to clarify
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| Is there a reason to go
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| Up the stairs
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| Down your eye
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| We’re sensible, now that we fill the void
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| Cut for miles, the face to chance
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| You’re in control
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| Pretty and paralyzed
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| Got no feel in your legs
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| Which just so many ways that we couldn’t fight
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| Now I’m standing on the rattles and throwing opportunity
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| Your towel’s on the floor, a feeling nevermore
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| And saying that you’re broke and never to be left again
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| When everything is dry, with cobwebs in your eye
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| Cobdrum is the reason
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| You’re pretty and paralyzed
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| Got no feel in your legs
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| And wishing so many things
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| Pretty and paralyzed
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| Now I’m standing on the rattles and throwing opportunity |