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Fleeing from the Lord is like fleeing from the sun
You always see the light no matter how far you run
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I need you to understand God loves you He's not happy with the things you do
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Twilight covers good intentions in dusk
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I am not ashamed of the gospel
For it is the power of God on my soul
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There is so much hope in my hand to touch you
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Brace yourself beauty,
you're living in a world
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Jaundice jeers June at jealous December
the sun is out but yet twilight covers it in dusk
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You're looking at me saying what's it going be My heart and mind are divided
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Be bold for the gospel Give God the power to control
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Barren are my thoughts as fallow are my hands
Lifetimes pass and go, yet here I will stand
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God does what he says he's going to do
The only one to doubt is you
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We're syncronized schemers with the same thoughts in mind
We're catastrophic liars with the same secrets to hide
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You see yellow? I see golden
The richness of the meadow is smoldering
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The dreariness of the world rubs off on crystal pupils and the site of the last tree standing makes my stomach churn. The only hope left in
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Aqua eyes turn candy corn orange
my voice is now the shaking wind
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Man is so unworthy and we start to wonder why
why God sent his only Son to live like him then die
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This world is futile and my thoughts are but falling leaves
Changing pink on good days and blue when I grieve
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Though the stars haven't aligned
I can see through to your deepest heart strings
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The last rose is plucked the last daisy is decapitated
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Karma turns white into clear
black into dirt
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We chant as we're holding hands together united
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I look and see cold stone eyes Glistened with pain and a wanting
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Train up a child in the way he should act
And when he is older, wisdom he won't lack
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The clearness of the stars
Shines brightly on the moon
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Erasers burn my skin and this acid corrupts my DNA
My deformed being is put in glass and now I'm on display
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Will my hope be crushed or created?
Will my faith be developed or deflated?
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Fluffy like bodily fat Sweet like digested sugars
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Statistics are just living numbers on a page Each one I see jumps out at me and chews at my heart
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Four walls? I count six The floor holds my tired feet
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