Believe an arm fell and I walked still.
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Arriving where you will.
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Thinking as the day rolls on.
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It's been this way before, I recognize.
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Hands in pockets and gray skies.
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You can only wish they were all this way.
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Not unless you fix it in the end somehow.
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What are you doing now?
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Arriving Where You Will
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| Counterfit |
