| My ideas like spinning wheels I don’t know where they end
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| Spent most of my life moving and trading all my friends
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| And I lost myself to somewhere but I don’t remember when
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| In the «new morning"light we found an old way to live
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| Ghost town kid the home I built, I was destined to destroy
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| All the girls faces that line my bed are thoughts from foreign shores
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| And a brother that I have, he said he’d always keep me close
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| Call on him from time to time when I am scared and all alone
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| I cover my eyes to the living we’re fed
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| Found alternative sides to the things that were said
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| Every mile-marker past running from the soulless
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| Every story that we shared, where we build our solace
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| And pomp and circumstance will never end this
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| In the «new morning"light we found an old way to live
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| I cover my eyes to the living we’re fed
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| Found alternative sides to the things that were said
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| These reflections of mine on splined canvases
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| In the cover of night we found our own way to live
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| The war that they crave is about to exist
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| Where compassion retreats and the death toll persists
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| So I’ll call you tonight just to be comforted
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| If it’s false its what I want, I just want this to end. |