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Meaning is sometimes hard to spot |
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It begins with the flickering of cigarettes |
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In the darkness of a dorm room |
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Somewhere in the suffocated mid-west |
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But if this is real, then I was mistaken |
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And if there is truth, then why can't we find it? |
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But beauty comes to those who have been waiting |
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For something that is bigger than themselves |
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But this is the sound of the hopeless kids |
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As they scream from the basements |
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Of the houses of their parents and... |
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This is the sound of the hopeless ones |
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As they stare down at their books |
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And realize they have been lied to |
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But if this is real, then I was mistaken |
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If the vision's gone, then I was not aware |
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Consistency like that which I have craved |
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Is that people change so unexpectedly |
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And realization finds you in a drunken airport |
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Some planes depart and others never arrived |
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So with this in mind, I don't plan on waiting |
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If it's time to leave and break these old ties |
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Without something more the vision is fading |
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But until it's gone the pain will make us try |
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But this is the hope I have been searching for |
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As the wings catch the sunlight of the cold Nebraska skyline |
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And this is the dream I am dying in |
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As I wake to find tomorrow |
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Be content without perfection |
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But if this is real then I was mistaken |
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If the vision is gone then I was not aware |