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love the run but not the race |
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all alone in a silent way |
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world drifts in and the world's a stranger |
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in a light, eclipsed and alienated |
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in a time, occupied and invaded |
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can't tell what's right, better hit the ground running |
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in the hills where the tall weed grows |
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hands are tied and won't let go |
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can't escape this place without leaving the world behind |
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in a light, ashamed and humiliated |
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in a time, sacrificed for the sake of trade |
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the soul is bent, feels the weight of truth |
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falling through |
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left behind, no choice but to run to the mountains |
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where no poppies grow, you have to hit the ground running |
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in a light, paralyzed and spirits fading |
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out of time, must decide to fall or run |
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into the eye, of the storm no sign or omen |
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make it right, or fall to the other side |
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where fields are burning |
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from the day you're born |
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you'll always hit the ground running |