Here beats the black heart of my rancor
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The speed of life can dull your nerve
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I beat no drum for anything anymore
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Might have more than I deserve
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The golden age of being amused
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Has turned into the modern life and times of being confused
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And I feel it too
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When I¡¯m alone in my room
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Waiting for that light to blink
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The little song I miss
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There¡¯s a ghost there singing
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I saw somebody jump the turnstile at the station
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He barely made the doors and took a seat next to a stranger
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I saw her eyes was as she brushed his body passing in the aisle
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And you said where are you calling from tonight?
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I don¡¯t dismiss it that I need it
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To disappear to something in loud
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A few new faces fill the spaces with a river of names
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And all the names just filter out
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This work can occupy my mind
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But it won¡¯t convince my body that I¡¯ve been satisfied
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And 1¡¯m most alive and I¡¯m most like myself in my dreams
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Your eyes connect the mis-remembered me
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I saw somebody jump the turnstile at the station
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Barely made the doors and took a seat next to a stranger
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I saw her eyes as she brushed his body passing in the aisle
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And I said where are you calling from tonight?
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And when are you coming home?
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Where Are You Calling From?
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Seven Mary Three |