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I must assume you're looking at me |
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Cause I know some things that we need to know about here |
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And we pretend that we both got wings |
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And both of us sing |
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So we'll sing til we fly out of here |
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Oh and maybe then we'll come back down |
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Oh and maybe then we'll come back down |
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Can we believe in things we can't see? |
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Without them we seem to disappear like we evaporate |
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And when we leave untraceable seams |
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That tear and we bleed, we need a martyr that won't hesitate |
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Oh and maybe then we'll come back down |
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Oh and maybe then we'll come back down |
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And I was hoping things were better |
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Something we could write in letters, singing |
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This is where we are, here and counting scars |
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The fight for something greater left us dead or barely breathing, singing |
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This is where we are, cut out for shooting stars |
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And I miss the way we lived in our dreams |
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When trust had meaning |
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When we were young and we were proud of this |
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When we defined ourselves by our screams |
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Cause life by no means seemed to give us both the best of it |
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But I guess maybe we can come back down |
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Whoa but maybe we can come back down |
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And I was hoping things were better |
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Something we could write in letters, singing |
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This is where we are, here and counting scars |
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The fight for something greater left us dead or barely breathing, singing |
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This is where we are, cut out for shooting stars |
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And I was hoping things were better |
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Something we could write in letters, singing |
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This is where we are, here and counting scars |
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The fight for something greater left us dead or barely breathing, singing |
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This is where we are, cut out for shooting stars |
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Ready or not, yeah |
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Whoa, yeah ready or not, oh whoa |
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Ready or not |