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I was trembling with gooseflesh |
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First time I prayed to speak in tongues |
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I saw it comin' and I tried to run |
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But now I make it up as I go along |
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Do I drive around with my high beams on? |
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Do I ever watch the road? |
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I store my thoughts in other people's heads |
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Then I question what they know |
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The rain falls on the animals |
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The wind blows up the dirt |
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Climb the rock, make a home in the cleft |
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Keep a record of the earth |
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On a crowded city sidewalk |
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Or in the wilderness alone |
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The crowd of witnesses hover above you |
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Like a pillar of smoke |
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Singing stories, whispering jokes |
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So the rain falls on the animals |
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The wind blows up the dirt |
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I climb the rock, I make my home in the cleft |
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And I keep a record of the earth |
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I keep a record of the earth |
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And I write it down for what it's worth |
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For what it's worth |