| The space between your fingers
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| The lack of water burns
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| The fear in you that lingers
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| Stalking all whom it concerns
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| The tempest’s howling chorus
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| Sings the days we never took
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| As they come dying all before us The closing of a book
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| I turn the other cheek
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| I’m dropping, I am one
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| Into the hands of nameless lands
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| To which you cannot run
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| But the ocean is your voice
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| It whispers, «Half of me has fled»
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| And now you’re screaming bloody murder
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| Breaking promises and bread
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| Your words now crossing worldly borders
|
| Strip my covered ears
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| The only thought that comforts
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| Is the hope in future years
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| That maybe you’ll arrive here
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| With a heart and mind subdued
|
| And maybe we’ll remember then
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| The life that we pursued
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| The tide sweeps you away
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| But no further can you be Than one night’s sleep through winter
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| Time is nothing more to me And the ocean is your voice
|
| It’s howling, «Half my life is dead»
|
| And I am screaming bloody murder
|
| Breaking promises and bread |