| Let me tell you a story.
|
| A tornado is on its way
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| to blow your fence away.
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| When the pieces are scattered
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| and your colours are looking pale
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| you’re notice the charade.
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| How do you feel today,
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| like angel dust or tidal waves
|
| And if your drink looks gray,
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| it’s just the flavour of the day.
|
| Have you tried to taste the rain?
|
| The river floats in mysterious ways.
|
| And if your heart looks gray
|
| it’s just the flavour of the day.
|
| Let me tell you a secret.
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| A river is on its way
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| to wash your fence away.
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| I didn’t mean to scare you.
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| I didn’t mean to shake you up.
|
| How do you feel today,
|
| like angel dust or tidal waves.
|
| And if your drink looks gray,
|
| it’s just the flavour of the day.
|
| Have you tried to taste the rain?
|
| The river floats in mysterious ways.
|
| And if your heart looks gray,
|
| it’s just the flavour of the day. |