| The absurdity is mine, and I hold it tight
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| And I want everyone to see it from my eye, eyes
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| That golden shine 'cross the country light
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| That I always think would be falling from the lips of the lord into.
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| The crucible of history, which is always burning brightly
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| Which is heaped in the Goddamn country, stooped by the sea
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| And we are all on our own, there is no kindness
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| There is only violence and smartphones
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| Standin' in the country and I’m about to be
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| Three miles up a trail looking down
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| There’s like a deep green sea of tree’s
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| The clouds pass over and my knees get weak
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| Oh, and driving through this country
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| I’ve seen the life that’s around, so the wifi abounds
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| I feel a deep heartbreak and a longing
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| I almost forgot what it means to be
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| Standing in this country, I drew a gun from the ground
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| Clocked it up and shot around
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| I felt my phone buzz tenderly, I heard the notification dinging
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| It was a complicated mess of history, it was a mystery
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| It was absurd and it was inhuman to me, standing in the country
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| Breathing to absurdity
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| But I guess this means that I can be
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| A part of the ever unfolding nature |