| Stuck in a world of water and glass—-
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| Of recycled air and years that have passed.
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| No one’s going to find us here.
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| They don’t know to look.
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| No rescue is coming.
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| No one’s going to find us here.
|
| They don’t know to look.
|
| No rescue is coming.
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| We took away to make our homes.
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| Now nothing remains
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| From all of our hunger.
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| We gave into our need to own,
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| So the tide in its rage
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| Has taken us under.
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| We are waiting to be found
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| At the bottom of the earth,
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| And frequently we’ll send a melody.
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| To the surface of the womb,
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| Where our hope of notice looms.
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| From the perfect place for all humanity—-
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| In the valley of the deep.
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| Death is a stranger
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| With tricks up his sleeves
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| That we’ll always need
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| But we’ll never receive.
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| No one’s going to find us here.
|
| They don’t know to look.
|
| No rescue is coming.
|
| No one’s going to find us here.
|
| They don’t know to look.
|
| No rescue is coming.
|
| We are waiting to be found
|
| At the bottom of the earth,
|
| And frequently we’ll send a melody.
|
| To the surface of the womb,
|
| Where our hope of notice looms.
|
| From the perfect place for all humanity—-
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| From the valley of the deep.
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| I wanna see those gardens where I used to pray.
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| Where I watched the sun come up And evening turn to day.
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| Light never seems to find this place.
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| This black is a permanent reminder that…
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| We are waiting to be found
|
| At the bottom of the earth.
|
| And frequently we’ll send a melody.
|
| To the surface of the womb,
|
| Where our hope of notice looms.
|
| From the perfect place for all humanity—-
|
| In the valley of the deep. |