Faces on fire and your hair is a mess
Lets do something that hasn't been done yet
I can't hear you
I just can't wait to be near you
I'm writing down something that you said
Counting on one hand the tombs we read
Nothing feels real
Because nothing is really free dear
We don't care what time it is
We're only living on a few ages
Endless is the tragedy
Of not counting who is really free
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