In the canyon i woke
With the cup in my hand
I hardly spoke
I felt the weight of the plan
But if it takes all day
I'll want more to take away
Everything that i touch
Turns to grey
Better lost before
On the way to the sound
I used it for
Keeping my feet on the ground
But when the wind picked up
I got scared and spilled my guts
Every year i end up in a rut
Losing track of time
And drifting
On a narrow line

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