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I am the painted child, the maker of confusion |
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With rainbows in my hair and magic on my face |
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A phantom of the street, an optical illusion |
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Who hears a different beat, who runs a different race. |
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I am the painted child, I am the mischief maker |
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The beggar at the feast, the fiddler at the ball |
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I know the words of songs, I am the Sabbath breaker |
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The caller in the night, the writing on the wall. |
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The name on the wall...is me |
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The cry in the dark'is me |
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The mark of the child'I sign |
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The name on the wall |
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I am the painted child, the child who is a stranger |
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And those who once came near now turn and walk away |
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And everywhere is fear and everywhere is danger |
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These are the masks we wear, these are the parts we play |
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I am the painted child, the crier and the chorus |
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I strike upon the drum for funerals and games |
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And others there have come in centuries before us |
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To fill the world with noise and dance among the flames |
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The name on the wall...is me |
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The cry in the dark'is me |
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The mark of the child'I sign |
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The name on the wall |
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I am the painted child, the clown and the protester |
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A creature of the time and seldom what I seem |
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And call me what you will, a renegade or jester |
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But still I chill your heart, and still I haunt your dream |
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I'll sing beside your grave, half-minstrel and half-mourner |
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I'll sing of years gone by and bridges never crossed |
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I am the painted child who stands on any corner |
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I am the child you loved, I am the child you lost. |
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The name on the wall'is mine |
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Look in to my face and see |
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The strange painted child |
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Is me |