| If there ever was a test
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| Then I’d be better than the rest
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| 'Cause I know better than the most
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| That love will haunt you like a ghost
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| It’s the everlasting feeling
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| Of not being who you want to
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| Of not saying what you mean to
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| Though you really, really want to
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| And as the ashes of the trees
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| That you have burned down
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| On your way
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| Comes together in a pile
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| They form a mountain in my way
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| And I know that I must force it
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| To get out of here alive
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| I try to think of something else
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| I try to keep the spirit high
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| But it’s not love that makes you wiser
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| Makes you better or refine you
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| It’s not love that keeps you fit
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| Pulls you up and realigns you
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| It’s the battle with yourself
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| And it’s the things
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| That you must go through
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| To get it right and get it over with
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| And get back in the world
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| But it’s not that I still want you
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| You’re not standing in my way
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| And it’s that I feel lost
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| And feel there’s something left to say
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| It just never really left me
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| That one question in my head:
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| Do you ever wish that you
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| Could just forget that we have met? |