| Here comes the restlessness again
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| Starts in my fingers then I’m bursting right out of my skin
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| My conscience whispers «time to go»
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| Born in my heart, it’s the only thing I know
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| I am just a pin drop in the map of their hometown
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| Out there chasing melodies with madness all around
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| But anything worth finding is never easily found
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| Another day out on the road
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| Funny how everywhere and nowhere feels like home
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| And I am a shadow of myself
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| Twisting in the wind, longing to be somebody else
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| Lave it all on stage, then glid through the afterglow
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| It’s counterfeit and candlelit and people I don’t know
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| The small hours and the smokey haze are for poets and for renegades
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| But I am just an ordinary no one in the sun
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| Fooling everyone
|
| Here comes the restlessness again
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| I feel it in my fingers till I’m bursting right out of my skin
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| My conscience whispers «time to rest»
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| My time is served in the quiet of a house arrest
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| And you could hear a pin drop, a solitary sound
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| I haven’t any strength left to search a love profound
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| And anything worth finding is never easily found
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| And anything worth capturing is never easily bound |