| Fucked up nigh, empty pack
|
| Lack of imagination, no more lights
|
| Running tap sounds like Niagara falls
|
| Silhouettes in the frame
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| A double take decision
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| Grab the key
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| Seems my feet are rushing to the door
|
| I’ve been lied to by the night
|
| Lead around in circles
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| Am I taking too much time
|
| A rhyme so lost in riddles
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| You’re the prize
|
| You’re the prize, the prize
|
| You’re the prize
|
| The prize, the prize
|
| You’re the prize
|
| Moving fast, when did cabs get little televisions
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| Looking back through the glass
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| At the footprints on he snow
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| At the red people cross like a parade of nothing
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| It’s too much, wanna stop it like a video, video
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| I’ve been lied to by the night
|
| Made the wrong decisions
|
| Thought I finally got it right
|
| Don’t these drums have rhythm?
|
| Don’t these drums have rhythm?
|
| You’re the prize
|
| You’re the prize, the prize
|
| You’re the prize
|
| The prize, the prize
|
| You’re the prize
|
| Don’t these drums have rhythm?
|
| I’ve been lied to by the night
|
| Looking back, moving fast, fast
|
| Oh, I, I’ve been lied to by the night
|
| You’re the prize
|
| Don’t these drums have rhythm?
|
| You’re the Prize, the prize
|
| You’re the prize
|
| The prize, the prize
|
| You’re the prize |