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the broken glass that fades the past is a parade of contless days painting patterns in the sand my motorcycle brain remains to be explained its like a summer rain pictures passing through a field blowing into the horizon watching the shadows on the wall tell me can you see my thoughts watching the shadows on the wall have you seen it all before I need a friendly hand someone who understand me by the river bed when there is nothing to be said anyway its all inside your head you know it watching the shadows on the wall tell me can you see my thoughts watching the shadows on the wall have you seen it all before before before before