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Wouldn't be nice if we were close |
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Or pretending that the war could kill the ghost |
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Maybe I could operate |
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But I'm done that's not breakin' news |
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You cannot turn the volume down as you choose |
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somewhere in the house across the sea maybe in a distant memory |
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Now and then you reappear out of nowhere |
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Like some ricochet, now you wait against the curtain |
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... |
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...underneath the sea |
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... spite my memory |
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Hard to make believe nothing means anything to me. |
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We .. in the patria |
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Un a tattooed thrown with a broken hearth |
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Follow home.. |
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You have to demand your rights but you'll never win if you try. |
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But in some corridor flickers a poor stubborn .. |
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I can put it all or burn it down |
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Can I turn this shepherd .. |
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Almost empty ... |
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Hard to make believe nothing means anything to me. |