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I met a man with a broken dream
talking bout how it used to be
he said, âboy do it while you can,
cause nothing goodâs waiting at the endâ
our bodies sing when our heads are still
late at nightâs when I start to feel that nothingâs right
I knew the words when I had a song
but everythingâs quiet when youâre gone
Iâm just a boy falling over myself
oh, I got lost in the material
trying to get back to the moment I fell for you
we do the dance and we make a mess
keep it up till we lose our breath
sit back and think it through,
thereâs nothing left for me to do
donât be so afraid to make mistakes
weâre remembered by the messes that we make (so letâs make them all)
the tricky rhythm that you fake, you fake,
donât mean a thing until you start to fall