| I’ve been down
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| Long and tedious roads
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| Stood alone in the dark
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| With all that I own
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| My agenda is open and simple:
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| I must survive
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| There’s so many things one can regret
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| And more that one denies
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| But I always have my pride
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| Don’t you know that I’ve tried
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| Shying away from danger
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| Hiding the tears I’ve cried
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| Brushing aside the anger
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| God only knows how I’ve tried
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| The words define
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| And occupy our mind
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| But the question remains:
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| Is this craving for freedom
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| Still what we strive?
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| For our hearts are torn with delusions
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| Of who we are
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| So I ask my judge and jurors be
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| To take it all in stride
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| 'Cause it’s building up inside
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| Don’t you know that I’ve tried
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| Shying away from danger
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| Hiding the tears I’ve cried
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| Brushing aside the anger
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| Yes, I’ve tried
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| Letting the rest think for me
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| Swallowing all my pride
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| I never said I’m sorry
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| But God only knows how I’ve tried
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| Where is the sin?
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| The crime is «knowing everything»
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| So I often wonder
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| Why should I care
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| When the crime’s everywhere
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| I might have been a fool
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| For giving more than I had
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| Don’t you know that I’ve tried
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| Shying away from danger
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| Hiding the tears I’ve cried
|
| Brushing aside the anger
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| Yes, I’ve tried
|
| Letting the rest think for me
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| Swallowing all my pride
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| I never said I’m sorry
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| But God only knows how I’ve tried
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| Yes, God only knows how I’ve tried |