Dark Days

The Sleeping

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    In a state of mind half-a-world away, split apart from day to day.
    The thought of switching grooves, a sudden swing of moods,
    Then somehow everything changed.

    Drastic differences in song, severed tunes now sung
    A full-circled hymn, a body rebuilding it's tired right from wrong.
    It's always wrong.

    Life, I was sick of a verse, it couldn't get much worse.
    I was caving in.
    Then my words dropped out of the sky, out of the odd summer night.
    I am the song.

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    Now my darkest days are half a world away, worlds away.
    There were no choruses allowed.
    There was dust spewed from the mouth.
    The scent of growing old, a rushing surge of cold,
    A never-ending cloud.

    There were beautiful bridges burning thin.
    All of the melodies sinking in, the thought of switching skin.
    The need to make it out, I gotta make it out
    But it's always wrong.

    Life, I was sick of a verse, it couldn't get much worse.
    I was caving in.
    Then my words dropped out of the sky, out of the odd summer night.
    I am the song.
    Now my darkest days are...

    Half a world away, worlds away.

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