| I lost my faith when I was young
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| I clenched my fist to bite my tongue
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| I leave a wake from all the things that I had done
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| Cause there wouldn’t be a thing when I moved on
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| Then I said wait
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| Are our bodies really piles of dirt?
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| And is the soul just a metaphor?
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| I keep my eyes from looking too far up
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| I fear that there is a heaven above
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| I stood in lines to bow my head
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| I’d fold my hands and speak in tongues
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| To whisper worries to the dead
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| But I could tell no apparition heard a single word I said
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| But I’d still call my fear in to the air
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| Then I said wait
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| Is my body really part of the earth
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| And is there blood running through my veins?
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| I’ll know when I turn to dust
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| But I fear the answer isn’t enough
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| So, will I never know heaven or hell?
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| Or is eternity something worse?
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| I keep my eyes from looking too far up
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| I fear that there is a heaven above
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| (heaven above, heaven above)
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| I want to give it up
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| I want to give it up
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| I want to give it up
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| But I just need it too much
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| Wait
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| Is my body really part of the earth?
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| And is there blood running through my veins?
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| I’ll know when I turn to dust
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| But I fear the answer isn’t enough
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| So, will I never know heaven or hell?
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| Or is eternity something worse?
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| I keep my eyes from looking too far up
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| A fear that there is a heaven above
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| A fear that there is a heaven above
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| A fear that there is a heaven above
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| I hope there’s not a heaven above |