| Every pupil in the classroom will answer the same if you ask them
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| Every mouth shout the message out as one
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| Every girl weeps like the willow, every boy cries into his pillow
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| Every tear disappears in the morning sun
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| You don’t need an indie song to figure out what’s going on Tell me that I’m normal, tell me that I’m sane
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| Tell me that you feel this too
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| All the dreams that we have had are gonna prove that we’re not mad to you
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| Every nose is a vacuum cleaner in the loved-up London arena
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| Every heart comes apart at the seams
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| You don’t need a mastermind to read between the long white lines
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| Tell me that I’m normal, tell me that I’m sane
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| Tell me that you feel this too
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| All the dreams that we have had are gonna prove that we’re not mad to you
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| Well we all need reassurance as we play life’s game of endurance
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| Like a nice cup of tea or a cigarette
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| But don’t lean too long on your crutches or you’ll fall straight into the
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| clutches
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| Of those who see free expression as a threat
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| You don’t need a law degree to set your mind and spirit free
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| So tell me what the hell is normal and who the hell is sane?
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| And why the hell care anyway?
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| All the dreams that we have had are gonna prove that we’re all mad and that’s OK |