| Those eyes have seen the best of days
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| Turning the countdown clock
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| A salty taste of a waterfall, thick colored fog
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| Bathing in the gaze of a sacred desire under the warmth of the sun
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| Senseless we adored the freedom, we danced for kingdom come
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| Twelve weeks already in this place
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| Turning, the countdown clock
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| X is sitting in his chair, he’s half white
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| And I’m half blue
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| At night, the screams from upstairs muting the storms outside
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| And I still ask myself the same old questions
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| Is the carnival on tonight?
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| As time passes me by, I avoid my painful doubt
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| That in a time of bleed, I need you by my side
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| But why is it that you always vanish
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| Like a mirage in summer nightLeaving just a shadow — so vivid, can’t see
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| anything esle for miles
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| And by the time you make your mind to take the pill
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| Division bells ringing down the elevator shaft
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| Welcome to the seventh floor rhymes well with velvet cream
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| Your crime in passion, last will, paint in purple
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| Six strings to cover fear |