| A picture on the wall, Like a postcard with a better view of
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| All things absent from Room 209.
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| Diana sips from an empty glass of hope she poured last night,
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| The clouds above reflect the shape of all she’s gotta leave behind.
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| We always think there’s something better in the place we are not,
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| In dreams the reality of it all,
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| Nobody’s happy where they’re at and we all wanna be somebody else
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| Another scribbled stationary book of lies,
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| Another staged confession that just goes unheard,
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| Harry Detroit in 304 made one last promise now,
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| I’m going out without a trace a vanishing act before your eyes
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| Nobody wants what they have got and what they got is not enough,
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| In dreams the reality of it all,
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| A lighter shade of green the grass maybe if I believe it so, then I’ll be home.
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| Here I go uncertain that if what I find is what I want,
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| the best for me is everything,
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| I reach for the same as what I’m running from,
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| I guess I’ll never, guess I’ll never know
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| Is it the struggle that we live for,
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| Is it keeping us alive to breathe to want, to know, to love
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| Just one more day
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| Just one more way
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| So here I go
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| I’m half the way to home
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| I’m half the way to home
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| I’m half the way to home |