| People run in circles around each other’s minds
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| Aw they’re playin games and they’re callin' names
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| Tryin' hard not to speak unless they’re spoken to
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| On their Long Days Flight till tomorrow
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| Smoke filled rooms with prophets all waiting for
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| Their day. |
| They philosophise and close their eyes
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| Drift to deep and dark illuminations on their
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| Long Days Flight till tomorrow
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| Sometimes I find these people coming out of light
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| They have found themselves underground
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| They have found everything going down, sir
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| Each one asks the other why so many lose their way
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| You think they’ve found some solid ground while all
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| Around them you know that time is moving, on their
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| Long Days Flight till tomorrow |