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You turn your back on me We've got to find some sort of compromise My thoughts dreams plots and my schemes Written on the walls when I'm lost in this scene I walk the many corridors Each splitting into more and more These pathways are like questions that raise more questions For instance Is the exit truly where I'm destined? Do I exist on a predetermined plan of succession? Who's the one that speaks to me in studio sessions? There's this curtain that's been closing in my mind Dividing left from my right Logic, art, being driven apart Like footsteps in the dessert heading different paths Trapped inside a small margin of time where we can't move forward and we can't rewind Children try to struggle side to side but in the end we all learn just to follow that line Some go brain dead just to make it painless but do they forget what we are We're scarecrows that scare foes and lean in the wind Our headpieces empty don't bleed when were skinned Suicide, suicide it's on the same path The most beautiful things were born in the dark Floral Wallpaper in the Corridors of My Mind Thats that right there Go inward, go inward, go inward to move outward Yea yea Onto the next one Onto the next one
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