| Hey, sleepwalker, don’t you miss the way
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| Wildflowers paint the western hills?
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| Or the first autumn whisper mid-September brings
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| And the glowy excitement that it builds?
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| Everyone is afraid of something
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| Even the strongest man alive
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| Hey, sleepwalker, we went walking in the western hills
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| And we picked you wildflowers
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| You gotta open your eyes
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| Hey, dreamcatcher, come out and see the leaves
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| The mountainside’s all watermelon red
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| Soon enough, they’re gonna rust and fall
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| Leave the mountainside cold and bare
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| But when the longer days of sun appear
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| They’ll be rising like an answered prayer and I know that
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| Everyone is afraid of losing
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| Even the ones that always win
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| Hey sleepwalker, when the mountain comes back to life
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| It doesn’t come from without
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| It comes from within
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| The hills are barren, but we look for what’s to come:
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| Sweeter skies and longer days of sun
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| When you wake up, I’ll be standing in the line
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| To kiss your eyes and wipe the tears from mine
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| 'Cause everyone is afraid of something
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| Even the strongest man alive
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| Hey, sleepwalker, Western Bluebells and Painted Cups are getting ready to rise
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| It’s time to begin
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| It doesn’t come from without
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| It comes from within |