| There’s something 'bout some people some of the time
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| And I know them 'cause they are like me
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| And every now and then they’re losing touch
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| They are waiting on some train that never comes and getting angry
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| 'Cause the tunnel’s falling back
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| And the heat hangs on the rise
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| The swarm is a closing pack
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| And the station shrinks in size
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| And they don’t like it (shouldn't have to)
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| But their life they just can’t undo
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| So they’ll touch whatever comes through
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| There’s something 'bout some people some of the time
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| And I know them 'cause they are like me
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| And every now and then they take a hit
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| And question why they’re taking it
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| Blowing dreams and reaping envy
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| And they look for something more, but their tracks are still the same
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| And the questions from before digging tunnels in their brain
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| And they don’t like it (shouldn't have to)
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| But their life they just can’t undo
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| So they take whatever comes through
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| There’s something 'bout some people some of the time
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| And I know them 'cause they are like me
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| And every now and then they catch a break
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| Every hit they ever took at stake
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| And for a moment, they could be happy
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| 'Cause their train is coming in
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| And their touch is back for sure
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| But the pain of when you win
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| «isn't winning» anymore
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| And they don’t like it (shouldn't have to)
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| But their life they just can’t undo
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| And their train, they are attached to |