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(Furler, Joel) as i lay me down where do i begin so simply complicated the voice within
invisible like the sound of the wind we all know you are there
i just believe it and sometimes i don't know why i gotta go with my gut again on this one
it's the reason we know a line is crooked 'cause we know what's straight that little voice inside
i confess i'm a fool for you no more, no less
strikes a chord when i say there is black, there is white there is wrong and there is right
if it's not the truth it's....??
or a machine
the more you'll see
if
there's ever been a time it's now
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