| I can remember it so well, the bed of roses where we lay
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| The crown of thorns I was so keen to give away
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| All the warning signs ignored, the passion’s played
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| I could foresee what was to come, I had a sense of what might happen
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| The river runs and very rapidly becomes a torrent
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| Sweeping us towards our ricochet
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| It takes a lifetime to unravel all the threads
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| That have tied us in these webs of tourniquet
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| I stake no claim on memory, I stand on ceremonial quicksand
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| I look for something with solidity to hold
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| Something lasting, something pristine with no sense of decay
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| Can you remember how that was? |
| Can you remember?
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| It takes a lifetime’s understanding of the flow to surrender
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| Let the current sweep you away
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| What if I told you I would never let you go
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| I would hold you every step along the way?
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| It takes a lifetime to unlearn all that you know
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| To return the things you borrowed for a day |