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Trapped in your mind, the swirling thoughts of dreams and woes surround your every aspiration and whim.
It consumes your attention, and plagues your thoughts, leaving you stranded... alone.
Only the subtle glow from the radio and it's lucid tones, hold you on the edge of reality.
It is here we laugh and cry, relate and hate all at the drop of a solitary note.
Someone seems to relate to us and hears our pleas.

Save us all...
We are trapped with music in our minds.




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Trapped with Music in my Mind...


Sunday, July 11, 2004

Week: Sunday, July 4th, 2004 - Saturday, July 10th, 2004

Fly Away
by Poe

It makes sense that it should happen this way
That the sky should break, and the earth should shake
As if to say: Sure it all matters but in such an
unimportant way
As if to say:

Fly away, sweet bird of prey
Fly fly away
Nothing can stand in your way
Sweet bird, if you knew the words
I know you'd say: fly, fly away

It makes sense that it should hurt in this way
That my heart should break, and my hands should shake
As if to say: Sure it don't matter except in the most
important way
As if to say:

Fly away, sweet bird of prey
Fly fly away
I won't stand in your way
Sweet bird, if you knew the words
I know that you'd say: fly, fly away

It makes sense that it should feel just this way
That you slowly fade and yet still remain
As if to say: Everything matter in such an invisible way
As if to say: It's O.K.
Fly...away


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