| The past is a thing who approached you and asked if he wrote you a note
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| And then he quoted you with poems
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| All the things you pursue, anything to see you front too
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| Who’s zooming who
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| It’s a privilege that’s known as lyricism
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| I must admit this is a bit embarrassing
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| But can I be characteristically caffeinated
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| Apple-cinnamon and licorice thoughts of gibberish
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| And we can reminisce about the history we’re making right now
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| Live a little
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| Let your whims control your limbs
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| Let the wind uphold your wings
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| Let your friends stay home again
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| Just give into your sins and unfold your linens and unroll your ribbons
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| Don’t give your body time to react, just relax
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| Just lean back, your seat back
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| There ain’t no need to freak out, just peep out
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| There ain’t no one way to do nothing baby
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| Sailing through the crab-shoot of life not knowing where we’re going
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| But don’t evade me
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| When I self-emerge myself into a microphone, hey
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| When I shoot the wind I drift away with oxygen and out of sight I’m gone
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| There is no stopping time
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| I’m on cloud number nine
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| The Cloud of Dreams
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| See it like this baby
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| Like you got sunlight and then you got the shade
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| You got the grass bright green and then you got the pavement
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| Got your whole life for sights you’ve seen and things you did
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| And the gravy
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| The only place you’re staying is the changes that you making
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| Grow, hold on, try and take it on yourself
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| But when you do it, when you get it you become, thrown away
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| But hold on
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| Know you’re strong so keep your grip
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| Cause they’ll be trying there best to trip you
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| Still, we 'gon carry it home
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| We’ve come so far we’ve got infinite future
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| Keep the soul, the bloodline flowing on
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| It’s like your mom says, baby-bubba
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| Don’t you worry, pray
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| You’ll discover
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| A brand new place
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| Somewhere or another
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| Where you’ll get your things straight
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| Then in order
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| Better have your issues covered like the world reporter
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| Concepts over-flow over air and water
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| How many people missing this times importance
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| Every moment that passses seems that time is shorter
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| Then you reach your ultimate height will all the colors
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| Represent your life, yourself, just know your culture
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| Then you’ll keep it rooted in your mind of polluted love
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| Non-convoluted with the righteous result
|
| When I self-emerge myself into a microphone, hey
|
| When I shoot the wind I drift away with oxygen and out of sight I’m gone
|
| There is no stopping time
|
| I’m on cloud number nine
|
| The Cloud of Dreams
|
| When I self-emerge myself into a microphone, hey
|
| When I shoot the wind I drift away with oxygen and out of sight I’m gone
|
| There is no stopping time
|
| I’m on cloud number nine
|
| The Cloud of Dreams |