No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking And racing around to come up behind you again The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older And shorter of breath and one day closer to death
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have you found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.
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