| My whole life’s been filled with songs and dreams
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| When I was a child I had a time machine
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| Little did I know it would go too fast
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| Little did I know it could see the future but not the past
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| Leave it all behind, come what may
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| Always thought I’d be comin' home someday
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| Little did I know that life is hard
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| Here I am, now, starin' out a window at my old back yard
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| Is there any comfort to be derived?
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| In knowing that most of our lives
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| Can never be the same
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| We can never go back home
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| And those that can are lucky, I guess
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| To somehow escape from this mess
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| Me, I can only do it in dreams and songs
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| Tryna fill a hole while running a race
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| Leaves an even bigger empty space
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| But a moving target is harder to kill
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| Never was one for taking it easy or standing still
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| Nowadays I find myself again
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| Throwing stones and caution to the wind
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| Nothing’s really changed but the scenery
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| And staring into my child’s eyes
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| I realize what it all means to me
|
| Is there any comfort to be derived?
|
| In knowing that most of our lives
|
| Can never be the same
|
| We can never go back home
|
| And those that can are lucky, I guess
|
| To somehow escape from this mess
|
| Me, I can only do it in dreams and songs
|
| Is there any comfort to be derived?
|
| In knowing that most of our lives
|
| Can never be the same
|
| We can never go back home
|
| And those that can are lucky, I guess
|
| To somehow escape from this mess
|
| Me, I can only do it in dreams and songs
|
| Dreams and songs |