| A man lives in the city
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| Surrounded by machines
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| They take away his pity
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| And give him what he dreams
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| A stream of information
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| On a green letter screen
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| Makes him feel in touch with the world
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| And sure of what it means
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| At the speed of light you’re in endless night
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| At the speed of sound you don’t see the ground
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| And in your sports car with the windows down
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| And the radio on and you don’t stop talking
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| Thanks, I’ll keep walking
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| I’m doing things in my own way
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| Well I’m doing things as I please
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| And then everything else goes its own way
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| At the speed of life
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| A man lives in the city
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| Distracted by the news
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| From sitting down with the ones he loves
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| Or taking time to choose
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| And what of conversation?
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| And what is left when he dies?
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| Is there a diary of an honest man
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| To stand against the lies?
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| Repeat Chorus
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| I’m doing things for their own sake
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| A picture on a screen won’t do
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| I need to feel and touch it too
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| Do what I feel
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| I’m doing things for their own sake
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| I gotta find that essential, deep emotion
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| Get unhooked from this low commotion
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| And do what I feel
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| I’m doing things in my own way
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| I’m doing things in my own way
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| Well I’m doing things as I please
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| And then everything else goes its own way
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| At the speed of life
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| This is the speed of life |