| Everyone I’ve met and known from different backgrounds, different homes
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| All related to the same vague ache that as they age just seems to grow
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| Different faces, different names, but the dull pain remains the same
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| All in fear, and all equally unclear of where it’s from or who’s to blame
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| Hey, yeah!
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| We all wear our hearts right on our arms
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| It’s a history many of us share, yet still a mystery how we all bear these
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| faults of ours, these battle-scars, and worse
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| And it’s universal, I know, but it’s universal…
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| And so as known we had no choice, we rose as one all in once voice
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| And made a language for our anguish, and, for the first time, we could rejoice
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| In knowing that, though no one’s spared, it only further proves that there
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| Are helping hands and those who understand and, in their understanding, care
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| Hey, yeah!
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| We are those in doubt
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| We scream and shout
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| A song that’s gone too long unsung that rings out at the top of our lungs
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| An offering to offer hope to those who still struggle to cope
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| And to make it known they needn’t struggle on their own
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| And it’s universal, I know, but it’s universal to feel as though you deal with
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| it alone
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| So this is our way of leaving on a light
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| For all those yet lost and those left behind
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| Because we know their own home can be so unkind
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| But that’s where we’ll be waiting, where you can always find
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| Our open arms, ears, hearts, and minds
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| Hey, yeah!
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| Fighting for our lives by basement light
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| And this war isn’t only mine
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| No, it’s ours to fight, ours to define
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| So if the weight’s too much to bear
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| Why not go where the weight is shared
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| It’s just a short walk down the stairs
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| Yeah maybe we’ll meet there |