Navigated into my own hole,
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I've got a stunning view
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Of all I can't control.
|
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It's insulated but the walls are cold.
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One foot on the ground.
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One eye on the door.
|
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Yeah, I thought that I was strong.
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Just give me a headcount and I'll be gone before too long.
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Sure, I thought we'd all help out.
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What's a pocket full of change to loneliness and or a way out?
|
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So I ride a bison through Golden Gate Park.
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Running through the grass.
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Dancing in the dark.
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Cross the desert in a holy house.
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Trample through the sand,
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Never make a sound.
|
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But I can't call a cab.
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I don't understand!
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I can't feel my legs.
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I don't understand!
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I can't say a word.
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I don't understand!
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Please help, I don't understand.
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If I ever speak again,
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Don't know what I will say to you.
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You make me want to see the world,
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But I don't want to leave your room.
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I'm two years old strapped to the back seat.
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Sweat drips off the toes of my baby feet.
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The heat increases and my arms are locked in.
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My stomach turns and the expulsion begins.
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But the words get stuck at the back of my throat.
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The dive head-first back into my soul.
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Where a scared little boy hides in the flaps.
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The reflex begins and my ribs collapse.
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Now that I can speak again,
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I just don't know what to say.
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I'd kind of like to see my friends,
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But I may never leave this place
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-----------------
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Fly On The Wall
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Facing New York |