| All the folks they wished us well all around the wishing well
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| I mean, all around the wishing well we go hungry
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| And all the folks that never last, they stayed to wallow in the past
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| I mean, all around the wishing well we walk light years
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| And you can tell angels from devils by the way they’re played
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| They hold different grudges but they’re still the same
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| All are dying pieces of a dying game we are one we are one we must not complain
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| (And I mean it, never complain, boss)
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| ‘Cause we are all being punked by the clock
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| Roll the rock
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| O cavemen cavemen where d’ya go? |
| There’s no spare land and nothing to know
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| All around the wishing well there’s just laughter
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| Fighters fall and lovers leave all we’ve ever been taught is to need our need
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| All around the wishing well a disaster
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| And you can tell angels from feathers by the way they flake
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| But no one ever notices, we’re all too late
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| We’re nursing isms and visions and heroes at the gate
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| As if it’s all one big mistake
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| But now the biosphere’s asleep
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| It’s just you and me
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| And all the thirst drowns in the sea
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| All are dying pieces of the meant to be
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| We are one, we are gone, we are lost, we are free
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| Yes, finally we’re free
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| But even when you’re king — or queen —
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| You’re still mocked
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| Roll the rock!
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| You tell your mama and your papa and your children too
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| Never to step over my body it just makes me blue
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| You tell your mama and your papa and your children too
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| I am the world
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| I am the children |