| Even if I swear life isn’t fair in a song
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| There’s more than part of me hoping that I’ll be proved wrong
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| The disappearing view from my, my ivory tower
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| Do I let what I feel decompose to powder?
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| What is my life worth, if I let that die?
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| That ideal, that I feel
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| Don’t seem so surreal
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| What is my life worth, if I let that die?
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| Let me tell you 'bout the story of Shihaba
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| Of adventure of disaster of dreams worth chasing after
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| The first born of six little sisters and brothers
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| Duty bound to help her mother, it was second nature to help another
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| See that was bread and butter but she would hold it down at school
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| Not every kid can afford a phase of being a fool
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| Locked in family routine still a teen, future still a dream
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| The view of the world from home — all’s not as it seems
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| Picture when she graduated, the freedom that activated
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| It hurt when her mum begged her to stay but she was motivated
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| By, the rite of passage, sky opened up before her
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| As she imagined what it’d be like across the water
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| With the desire inside for living the life only the fire burned
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| Will she be the same when she returns?
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| Even if I swear life isn’t fair in a song
|
| There’s more than part of me hoping that I’ll be proved wrong
|
| The disappearing view from my, my ivory tower
|
| Do I let what I feel decompose to powder?
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| What is my life worth if I let that die?
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| So she saved up for a year and used it
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| A return ticket to Europe
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| Excited eyes below a disguise of a naive tourist
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| One stop on the way included where her mum and dad were born
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| Sri Lanka just a postcard 'til she flew in at dawn
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| Warmly welcomed by family she’d barely met
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| A visit that was too short, now she back up on a jet
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| And she clicked between the channels in her seat, stretched her feet
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| Got the feeling that freedom was found at thirty thousand feet
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| Fell asleep, but woke up to «This is your pilot speaking
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| Immigration slips we give you need completing
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| Please be seated as the plane descends»
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| Her heart beat faster then
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| Thinking 'bout all the adventures in the months that lay ahead
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| And below in the snow of Glasgow… she stared
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| And she remembers what her dad said just before she left
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| Of the importance of appreciating how adept the culture will enrich you
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| Illuminate the bigger picture, the greater issues, that despite it all unite us
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| What is my life worth, if I let that die?
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| You need clear eyes to see it
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| The reason to believe in
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| The good in everyone even when looks are deceiving
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| We’re all living breathing
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| Real life flesh and blood
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| The injustice huh, it never quite be enough
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| To kill human kindness
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| Sever the ties that bind us
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| Colour, creed or nation
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| Yo they’re not enough to define us
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| Let the singular nature of our blood stain the great space
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| Close your eyes and see the human race
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| Her navy blue Australian passport
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| Did not stop customs being sceptical of how long her stay would last for
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| Raw fear and confusion and tiredness engulfed her
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| 'I don’t believe you, you’re lying' is what they told her
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| (Come this way)
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| Meanwhile others looked on, passengers she sat near
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| They could hear her pleading, being dismissed by deaf ears
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| (She lost it)
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| It can’t be happening, there must be a mistake
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| (Panic set in)
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| The tears that took it in were streaming down her face
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| (Breaking down)
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| Arbitrarily deported, reported and recorded
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| 'Shut up and stop crying', official customs orders
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| A rite of passage — the sky opened up before her
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| Humiliated she was heading back across the water
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| Desire for a life lived, the fire burned
|
| Will she be the same when she returns?
|
| Even if I swear life isn’t fair in a song
|
| There’s more than part of me hoping that I’ll be proved wrong
|
| The disappearing view from my, my ivory tower
|
| Do I let what I feel decompose to powder?
|
| What is my life worth, if I let that die?
|
| That ideal that I feel
|
| Don’t seem so surreal
|
| What is my life worth, if I let that die?
|
| That ideal that I feel
|
| Don’t seem so surreal
|
| What is my life worth, if I let that die? |