| Ain’t nothing but a stepping stone
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| You got years and years to go
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| When you stay up for a classic thrill
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| As you look out disappointed on the window sill
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| Well, thought that there’d be more
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| She said to me, with tears streaming down her face
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| Have you found your place?
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| Have you found that place?
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| Have you found your
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| Ain’t nothing but some shoot up faith
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| You tap two on the crest of your veins
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| Now your waving down some mighty hand
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| As you wander through the promise of some promise land
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| Is there paradise right here: in my coffee cup
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| On the porch in gentle breeze
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| Have you found your peace?
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| Count the marks on the dollar tree
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| Catching leaves to fill the space
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| Have you found your place?
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| Why is my room filled with things I don’t need
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| Books I don’t read anymore
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| When I sit and I soak up the light from my screen
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| With so much to see I’ve never felt so bored
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| Why is my head filled with thoughts I don’t think
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| Shit that leaves me on the floor
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| But I’m staying inside as I soak up that glow
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| With so many highs, I’ve never felt so low
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| So tell me what’s your secret sauce
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| A tattoo or a gin on the rocks
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| When we’ve all got our prescriptions to fill
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| Tell me honey do you find yours in a pew or a pill?
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| And you thought that you’d feel warm, in a blanket
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| That’s wrapped up inside your brain
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| Have you found your place? |