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I am locked up inside a house of solid glass |
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Open to every look of the one's who pass |
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Moments of fantasy trade with those of void |
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Images of repose, repress the worldly toil |
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I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream |
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Is this the land of riches the path to our source |
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Is this the only key to unlock all the doors |
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Or has my fantasy once again fooled me |
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Will the signs I see next fail to free me |
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I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream |
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As if I awake from the deepest sleep |
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And as if the road to being seems less steep |
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These glassy walls that have surrounded me |
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Break and give way for a flow of energy |
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Freedom I sought and for which I have paid |
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Strides over my strongly built barricades |
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The self I really am that was once disguised |
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Evolves to the fullest - starts its steady rise |
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Rids the broken pieces of my shattered past |
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It overcomes the fear - weight, I've lost at last |
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Now there's just space endlessly new to me |
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The flash of light enables me to see |
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And my view touches horizons as serene |
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As the source of all that I have ever dreamed |