| Oh, I dig my heels into the sand and watch the waves bury me
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| As they roll back into the sea
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| Honestly, my thoughts are crooked as the coastline
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| I can’t keep things straight in my head and I can’t forget
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| I can’t forget I’ve got these shackles on my feet and
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| The city breathes it down my neck, but.
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| I’m just trying to keep my head
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| Between the Pacific and the pale, grey sky
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| But, I wake up in a nightmare and I’m no good at hiding all the time
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| I’m just trying to keep the water out my lungs and stop this trend
|
| Where I’m rolling over and falling back asleep again
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| So, you head for the high grounds;
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| Deciding this lunatic’s words and the saboteur’s mind
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| (Well, I’ve got a map of the plan and I know where to find you.)
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| And I’m eager like a child to act out these plans that I’ve devised
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| (During 23 years that I spent without cover from sunshine.)
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| I’m just trying to keep my head
|
| Between the Pacific and the pale, grey sky
|
| But, I wake up in a nightmare and I’m no good at hiding all the time
|
| I’m just trying to keep the water out my lungs and stop this trend
|
| Where I’m rolling over and falling back asleep again
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| Does it crush you to know you’re just like everyone else
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| When you’re crying in your soup and making suicide threats?
|
| I’m just trying to keep my head
|
| Between the Pacific and the pale, grey sky
|
| But, I wake up in a nightmare and I’m no good at hiding all the time
|
| I’m just trying to keep the water out my lungs and stop this trend
|
| Where I’m rolling over and falling back asleep again |