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Lying in a field of glass |
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Underneath the overpass |
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Mangled in the shards of a mental frame |
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Woken from a dream by my own name |
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Well, I was such a wretched man |
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Searching everywhere for a homeland |
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Now we are under the same sun |
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Feel it through the leaves, let it heal us |
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We are the same, we are both sane |
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Underneath the sycamore |
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We are the same, we are both sane |
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Underneath the sycamore |
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We were both broken in our own ways |
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Sifting through the rubble for the wrong things |
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I know you've got a vengeful heart |
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That I cannot be stopped soon as I start |
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But you have seen your darkest rooms |
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And I have slept in makeshift tombs |
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And this is where we find our peace |
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Or this is where we are released |
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We are the same, we are both sane |
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Underneath the sycamore |
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We are the same, we are both sane |
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Underneath the sycamore |
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We are the same, we are both sane |
|
Underneath the sycamore |
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We are the same, we are both sane |
|
Underneath the sycamore |
|
We are the same, we are both sane |
|
Underneath the sycamore |
|
We are the same, we are both sane |
|
Underneath the sycamore |
|
We are the same, we are both sane |
|
Underneath the sycamore |
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We are the same, we are both sane |
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Underneath the sycamore |