Magnetic tapes are old bloodstreams
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for this recording calm machine.
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We're serving all the jaded hearts
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of those without a place to start.
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And washing them all of mistake; ill confidence could never fake
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the notes and bolts that ring this song:
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expired tales of love gone wrong.
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Why do I stay the same?
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Why do I hear your name on every street, on every path?
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Luminance.
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Why do I hear your name?
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Why do I feel the same in every dream I ever have?
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Luminance.
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Standing in a freezing place beyond,
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until your heart has stopped its chime.
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Branded with an order number, and washing them all of mistake.
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-----------------
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Luminance
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Cave-In |