The fire still burns, when you are gone. Life in the North goes on without you.
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My fire will burn, with you or not. My passion will overcome.
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Year's end, coming home, and what do you have to show for yourself?
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I amount to nothing more, than what they understand.
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Feel the sense of confusion, for your wins you cannot explain.
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See the lack of comprehension, over the ground you worked so hard to gain.
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The fire still burns, when you are gone.
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My fire will burn, with you or not.
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We live for the thrill of the struggle.
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We live for the love of our sorrows.
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I fight the fight I can never win, but I fight the fight for the fight itself.
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And so I am rich with failure? Brutal north, bring me down again.
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I guess these are the risks you take, when you've been gone for so many years.
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Would they even look up from their tables, if suddenly you appeared?
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The fire still burns, when you are gone.
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My fire will burn, with you or not.
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We live for the thrill of the struggle.
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We live for the love of our sorrows.
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Brutal north bring me down.
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Brutal north bring me down again.
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I stood at the foot of the mill again, like a metaphor of northern time.
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I watched them burn off the excess, flames to the sky
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The fire still burns, when your are gone
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My fire will burn, with you or not
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So many small losses, for one giant gain
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Quiet victories spent alone, along the way
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Now I wander the streets as out of place as the day I left
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No better off. Nothing has changed. These are the risks we take...I guess?
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Brutal north bring me down.
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Brutal north bring me down again.
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-----------------
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The Thrill Of The Struggle
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Woods Of Ypres |