| Something that you said is living in my head
|
| Grows nightly inside me
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| And though my dream exists, memory persists
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| To fight me, despite me
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| Silver words you spoke, under your breath
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| Making whirlwinds in my head
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| «there is a light shining for you», he said
|
| «that doesn’t shine here for me too», he said
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| So passion echoes doubtfully
|
| And falls against the walls of my dream
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| Through open pores, tiny trickles to the sea
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| The story as is read is hanging by a thread
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| Tread lightly, slightly, so lightly
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| And, leaving me exposed, the folie I proposed
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| Has fooled me, ruled me, ridiculed me
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| Silver words ' spoke, under my breath
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| Making whirlwinds in my head
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| «do they really deserve you? |
| «, he said
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| «have my words really fooled you? |
| «, he said
|
| And passion echoes doubtfully
|
| And falls against the walls of my dream |