| Beside my bed there is a lamp
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| And in that lamp there is a lonely moth
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| He’s got one night, he’s got one life
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| And one thing on his mind, and that’s the fire
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| He doesn’t care from where it comes
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| He only knows he’s got to run
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| Toward the brightest promise in his eye
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| Now he’s circling to the ground
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| His wings have burned, he’s falling down
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| I just watch, and wonder how we carry on
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| It was a world I never made
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| I just fell into this old parade
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| They told me it’s my time to shine
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| And they got ways to light me up at night
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| They didn’t care from where I came
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| It seemed they lost their pride and shame
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| Looking for a fire of their own
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| One last ember hits the ground
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| The wood’s all burned, it’s ashes now
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| If you look up to the moon, you’ll help me carry on
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| Old man in a bar tonight
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| He sits down on a stool to watch the fight
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| He says «One last drink to light me up
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| And then I do believe I’ve had enough»
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| Chasing dreams that end in pain
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| I’ve chased the sun, I’ve chased the rain
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| But nothing ever seemed to fill my cup
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| I see the angels circling now
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| I feel the moon behind the clouds
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| That’s the kind of fire I’d be proud to carry on |