| At the top of the stairs, there’s hundreds of people
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| Running around to all the doors
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| They try to find, find themselves an audience
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| Their deductions need applause
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| The rich man stands in front of me
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| The poor man behind my back
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| They believe they can control the game
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| But the juggler holds another pack
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| I need someone to believe in, someone to trust
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| I need someone to believe in, someone to trust
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| I’d rather trust a countryman than a townman
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| You can judge by his eyes, take a look if you can
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| He’ll smile through his guard
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| Survival trains hard
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| I’d rather trust a man who works with his hands
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| He looks at you once, you know he understands
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| Don’t need any shield
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| When you’re out in the field
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| But down here
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| I’m so alone with my fear
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| With everything that I hear
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| And every single door, that I’ve walked through
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| Brings me back, back here again
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| I’ve got to find my own way
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| The priest and the magician
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| Singing all the chants that they have ever heard
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| And they’ll calling out my name
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| Even academics, searching printed word
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| My father to the left of me
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| My mother to the right
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| Like everyone else they’re pointing
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| But nowhere feels quite right
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| And I need someone to believe in, someone to trust
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| I need someone to believe in, someone to trust
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| I’d rather trust a man who doesn’t shout what he’s found
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| There’s no need to sell if you’re homeward bound
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| If I choose a side
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| He won’t take me for a ride
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| Back inside
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| This chamber of so many doors
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| I’ve nowhere, nowhere to hide
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| I’d give you all of my dreams, if you’d help me
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| Find a door
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| That doesn’t lead me back again
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| — Take me away |