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When I say Iâm losing,
What I really mean is that Iâm on my way
To being lost in something more
Well that doesnât sound so bad now does it?
Iâve rubbed shoulders with people looking to be found
To be someone,
To be something,
To just be proud
To tilt their heads back and bask
In a lukewarm spotlight
Cast down from catwalks of superstition
Iâve shaken hands with men
Whose finely tailored suits
Just didnât fit
Clothes donât make the man
So stop wearing yourself thin
To a clinical observer of the human carnival
The games all sound the same
âPick me, pick me, love me, use me.â
They call to each other like crickets at dusk
And I rock myself to sleep
Softly, to their song
Thereâs music in the sky if you know how to listen up
Thereâs power in the soil if you let yourself believe
And thereâs good company to be found at eye level
Stop looking up, stop feeling down
Stop trying to be found
Lose yourself
Thereâs a liar in everything familiar