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The shimmering on the water leaves the outline of a strangerA silhouette of anger and disgustHis words are cold as ice with syllables of isolationDefining his own hatred and disgustYou can see the edge of his words From HereYou can see the edge of the world From HereA veteran of living, he's no babe in the woodsHe's learned to walk; He's learned to fall downHe'll lend a hand to no oneIn fear of a two-faced con man with a contract on the runSome say he belongs to the windHe starts where the end beginsHe won't fight for love; He threw it all awayIt's just a dangerous game he's learned not to play
The shimmering on the water leaves the outline of a strangerA silhouette of anger and disgustHis words are cold as ice with syllables of isolationDefining his own hatred and disgustYou can see the edge of his words From HereYou can see the edge of the world From HereA veteran of living, he's no babe in the woodsHe's learned to walk; He's learned to fall downHe'll lend a hand to no oneIn fear of a two-faced con man with a contract on the runSome say he belongs to the windHe starts where the end beginsHe won't fight for love; He threw it all awayIt's just a dangerous game he's learned not to play
 
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