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They move in the rhythm of their time and keep it inside |
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They rush through the alleys of their lives and think that's alright |
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They see through their visions what they want to see |
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Act in their courtyard like they want to be |
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They think they can hear it, but they're deaf indeed |
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Spread out their ideas egoistically |
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When I'm locked-in, will I break down? |
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When I grow up, will I freak out? |
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Will I crack up when they change all? |
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Will I dry out, will my mask fall? |
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Will they change me? Will it ease me? |
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Will they shape me? Will it pull me under? |
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Will it tear me? Will it ruin me? |
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Will it reach me? Or just pull me under? |
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They move in the rhythm of my time and rub off my signs |
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They rush through the alleys of my life and repaint them with lies |
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Will they catch up, will they get me? Disappoint and then they blind me |
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Will they brand me, yet they're hurting me, will they wound me? |
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They're deserting me |