| People are puppets held together with string
|
| There’s a beautiful sadness that runs through him
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| As he asked me to pray to the God he doesn’t believe in
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| Time and again boys are raised to be men
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| Impatient they start, fearful they end
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| But here was a man mourning tomorrow
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| He drank, but finally drowned in his sorrow
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| He could not break surface tension
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| He looked in the wrong place for redemption
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| Don’t look at me with those eyes
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| I tried to un-heave the ties
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| Turn back the time that drew him
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| But he couldn’t be saved
|
| A sadness runs through him
|
| Through him
|
| Time and again boys are raised to be men
|
| Impatient they start, fearful they end
|
| But here was a man mourning tomorrow
|
| Who drank, but finally drowned in his sorrow
|
| He could not break surface tension
|
| He looked in the wrong place for redemption
|
| Don’t look at me with those eyes
|
| I tried to un-heave the ties
|
| Turn back the time that drew him
|
| But he couldn’t be saved
|
| A sadness runs through him
|
| Through him
|
| Don’t look
|
| Don’t look
|
| Don’t don’t
|
| Don’t look at me with those eyes
|
| I tried to un-heave the ties
|
| Turn back the time that drew him
|
| But he couldn’t be saved
|
| No he couldn’t be saved
|
| A sadness runs through him
|
| A sadness runs through him
|
| A sadness runs through him
|
| A sadness runs through him
|
| A sadness runs through him |