You'll bruise their hearts, child. You'll live their lives? You'll fill their
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shoes, child? You'll still be right? You'll speak your words, child. You're
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still nieve. You'll tell your lies, child. They'll still believe. All you've
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ever said about them, it was never right. Has all you've learned here been
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forgotten? You're the perfect light? Don't strain your head, child, thinking
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for them. Don't place the blame, child. Your time will come.
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All you've ever thought about them, it was never right. Your "open mind" is
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sealed and settled, locked and bolted tight. All you've lived is moments in a
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fraction of their lives. It's sad you never notice when the stick is in your
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eye. You'll throw your stones, child. You'll never bleed? All you've ever said
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about them, it was never right. And all you've ever thought about them, it was
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never right. The bleeding hearts and artists painted meanings in their songs.
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And all the little children lost their minds and sang along. All that you said
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wasn't true.
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Moments
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The Juliana Theory |