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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 |