Texty písní SEVEN MARY THREE The Economy Of Sound Wait


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I imagine long walks down the road. Things begin to bloom and the sky explodes.
The damage is undone, and then I know. This has got to be a dream.
Machines and luxuries don't last. I took my sleep for granted in the past.
And I woke up half-dead in the hourglass. Why does that sound funny?
Wait, you're almost there it's gone. You're almost there it's gone.
You're almost where what follows you, does not bother you.
I have walked the tightrope parts of me. I towed the line just far enough to see.
I never found a gift you get for free. You pay for them dearly.
I see my forever as one long night. If I can make it dark then I can make it light.
I know that most of living done is done in the mind. Only thought survives.
Are you tired? Are you uninspired? Has the miscommunication tried to eat you up inside.
I am here, and you are here. And everything I want to know. Sleeps between your ears.
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