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    Hands in line
    Arms close to my side
    I'm fighting tides of an ocean's undertow
    And I figure I might not make it
    And I'm taking empty
    But seldom keeping
    And the words retreat breathing histories into stories untold
    And I unfold

    My hands are high
    And I'm holding out, holding up
    Because I figure that I just might make it
    And I'm waking empty but seldom sleeping
    And the words repeat breathing histories into stories untold
    And I unfold

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    Quality is what you see now in the corner of your eye
    Don't be surprised if you hear the bells ring
    They form from the sky and they sound bong, bong, bong
    And I'm holding up because I figure that I just make it

    And I'm waking empty but seldom sleeping
    And the words repeat breathing histories into stories untold

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Day Old Johnson

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