Modern industrial life
Takes your soul in its fangs
We might as well be all washed away
If I don’t hang on tight, if I let myself stray
I will lose my sight and I will be washed away
And, oh, some days I walk my own
Oh, my own pace
It takes away the heartache
It seems no one has their own eyes
And we all speak from the cage
Are we living in fright
Consenting to be washed away
I’ll lose my heart, my own eyes
I’ll lose the smell of the rain
As I walk, aimless in the night
I will be washed away
And, oh, some days I brush the palm
Oh, of my hand
Across the face of this forgotten land
I left my print in the sand
Organic mark made
I got up and walked in the night
And I refused to be washed away
The burden of modern life
The heart it beats and it prays
Forever to walk in the night
And never be washed away
And, oh, some days I walk my own
Oh, my own pace
It takes away the heartache
And oh some days, I brush the palm
Oh, of my hand
Across the face of this forgotten land
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