| Nothing is colder than the winds of change
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| Where the chill numbs the dreamer till a shadow remains
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| Among the ruins lies your tortured soul
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| Was it lost there
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| Or did your will surrender control?
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| Shivering with doubts that were left unattended
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| So you toss away the cloak that you should have mended
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| Don’t you know by now why the chosen are few?
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| It’s harder to believe than not to
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| Harder to believe than not to
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| It was a confidence that got you by
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| When you know you believed it, but you didn’t know why
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| No one imagines it will come to this
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| But it gets so hard when people don’t want to listen
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| Shivering with doubts that you left unattended
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| So you toss away the cloak that you should have mended
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| Don’t you know by now why the chosen are few?
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| It’s harder to believe than not to
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| Some stay paralyzed until they succumb
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| Others do what they feel, but their senses are numb
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| Some get trampled by the pious throng
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| Still they limp along
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| Are you sturdy enough to move to the front?
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| Is it nods of approval or the truth that you want?
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| And if they call it a crutch, then you walk with pride
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| Your accusers have always been afraid to go outside
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| They shiver with doubts that were left unattended
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| Then they toss away the cloak that they should have mended
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| You know by now why the chosen are few
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| It’s harder to believe than not to…
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| I believe |