| I’ve gone through life
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| White-knuckled in the moments that left me behind
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| Refusing to heed the yield
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| I penetrate the force fields in the blind
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| They say I’ll adjust
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| God knows I must
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| But I’m not sure how
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| This natural selection picked me out to be
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| A dark horse running in a fantasy
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| Flesh and bone
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| Am I running out of time?
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| Flesh and bone
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| Somewhere outside that finish line
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| I square up and break through the chains
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| And I head like a raging bull
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| Anointed by the blood, I take the reins
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| Cut from the cloth, of a flag that
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| Bears the name of «Battle Born»
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| They call me the contender
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| Listen for the bell
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| My face flashing crimson from the fires of hell
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| What are you afraid of?
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| And what are you made of?
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| Flesh and bone
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| And I’m running out of time
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| Flesh and bone
|
| And what are you made of?
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| Flesh and bone
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| Man I’m turning on a dime
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| Flesh and bone
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| This could decay
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| Like the valley below
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| Defenses are down
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| The stakes are high
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| (Scouting the crowd for a face of compassion)
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| The fairytale end
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| (To face off the journey that fathers no more)
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| The staggering blow
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| (You'll find the truth in the roots of desire)
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| You lead with your chin
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| (Thinkin' with your corners, just a compass and the sun)
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| This could be real
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| (Thinkin' with your corners, just a)
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| Simple
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| And what are you made of?
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| (Flesh and bone)
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| And I’m running out of time
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| (Flesh and bone)
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| What are you made of?
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| He faces forward
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| Trading in his blindness for the glow of love
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| And time is raging, may it rage in vain
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| And you always had it, but you never knew
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| So boots and saddles, get on your feet
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| There’s no surrender, cause there’s no retreat
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| The bells are sobbing, in this monster land
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| We are the descendants of giant men |