| The world is just a playing field for man
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| And the blanket sky will cover every last event
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| From the battles of the ages to the baby sleeping tight
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| I could sing a rhyme
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| And try to find the reasons for each place and time
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| To wrap the world around my mind
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| But I know, at best
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| Words were never meant for explaining the mystery of our day
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| We’re so afraid of what’s at stake when we die
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| Still, I never wanted to live in such fear of the unknown
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| Or the reasons for pain in this life
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| I still wonder what we’re doing here
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| As I stare into the midnight sky, confronted by my fears
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| Is there something worth redeeming in this old and tired world?
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| Or has all been lost, cause every change will have its cost
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| And I can see, there’s still an ember left of something good
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| I know, at best
|
| Words were never meant for explaining the mystery of our day
|
| We’re so afraid of what’s at stake when we die
|
| Still, I never wanted to live in such fear of the unknown
|
| Or the reasons for pain in this life
|
| I could sing a rhyme
|
| And try to find the reasons for each place and time
|
| To wrap the world around my mind
|
| But I’d regret the time poorly spent
|
| Because I know, I know, at best
|
| Words were never meant for explaining the mystery of our day
|
| We’re so afraid of what’s at stake when we die
|
| Still, I never wanted to live in such fear of the unknown
|
| Or the reasons for pain in this life, this life |