As the sun comes creeping up the mountain and the wind blows over from the sea.
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Hey, we're brought into this land like tiny particles of sand, unsure of who we're smarter than, or what we're meant to be.
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Oh the grains sift coarsely through the hour glass and collect like their victims in the bowl.
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The ungodly force of change erodes all sense of earthly gains. While tending to the mundane will terrorize your soul.
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And it's no! It's no use thinking that you're wrong. The past is old and gone. It's best to move along and find your Avalon.
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Well, I wish that I could tell you it was easy, just take the paved road right to paradise. But the
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truth is my friend, the pain and suffering never ends. Make amends with medicine, amnesia, and lies.
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The grains sift coarsely through the hour glass and they pound like boulders on the brain.
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All those things you did for fun, never hurting anyone, careless shadows in the sun, just empty and lame.
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And it's no . . . it's no use thinking that you're wrong. The past is old and gone. It's best to move
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along and find your Avalon.
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So now the day races from the twilight. How the fields are enveloped by the shade. And the story
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that you'll tell, inventory of your well, crack the shell and find the mortar silted and decayed.
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And it's no! It's no use thinking that you're wrong. The past is dead and gone. It's best to move
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along and find your Avalon. It's best to hurry on and find your Avalon.
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Avalon
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Bad Religion |