| Well there are times
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| When you will not like the sound of my voice
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| There are days when a warm look from a strange face
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| Will make me forget my name
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| And there are nights
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| When you wonder where the party’s at now
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| And you wonder why you never split this beat scene
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| When a higher life awaits
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| And there are days
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| When you don’t know how you picked the wrong life
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| In a second when it’s over in our own minds
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| And it’s gone without a sound
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| And there are fights
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| That’ll hear things that we know we don’t mean
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| And we say 'em cause we don’t know what we both want
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| And we can’t get to the other side
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| There are years
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| That’ll fly like winds across a floodplain
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| Unaware of it’s own weight, free of friction
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| And immune to it’s own speed
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| There are weeks
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| That’ll crawl like slugs across a hot road
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| Only moving cause it just don’t know how to stop
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| On a search for God knows what
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| And there are songs
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| That’ll make your skull ring like a dropped cup
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| Resonating with the reasons why you worked through
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| And the reasons why you stayed
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| For the long nights when you found a new resolve that I never knew was there
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| For the cold eye and the warm embrace now
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| For the righteous vibe that I need like the air I breathe, yeah
|
| Well there are times
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| When you’ll think you’ve got my funny number figured out
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| There’ll be days when I don’t feel like
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| I ever knew you all that well
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| And there are lines
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| Drawn behind, around, above and over everything
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| In an effort to figure out
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| The place and time, the right, the wrong, the yours, the mine
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| And I’ll be damned
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| If I feel like I will ever know anything
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| But if don’t keep moving on that last hill
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| We’ll never know what’s on the other side |