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Everyone Iâve met and known from different backgrounds, different homes
All related to the same vague ache that as they age just seems to grow.
Different faces, different names, but the dull pain remains the same
All in fear, and all equally unclear of where itâs from or whoâs to blame.
Hey, yeah!
We all wear our hearts right on our arms.
Itâs a history many of us share, yet still a mystery how we all bear these faults of ours, these battle-scars, and worse
And itâs universal, I know, but itâs universalâ¦
And so as known we had no choice, we rose as one all in once voice
And made a language for our anguish, and, for the first time, we could rejoice
In knowing that, though no oneâs spared, it only further proves that there
Are helping hands and those who understand and, in their understanding, care.
Hey, yeah!
We are those in doubt.
We scream and shout
A song thatâs gone too long unsung that rings out at the top of our lungs
An offering to offer hope to those who still struggle to cope
And to make it known they neednât struggle on their own.
And itâs universal, I know, but itâs universal to feel as though you deal with it alone.
So this is our way of leaving on a light
for all those yet lost and those left behind
Because we know their own home can be so unkind,
but thatâs where weâll be waiting, where you can always find
Our open arms, ears, hearts, and minds.
Hey, yeah!
Fighting for our lives by basement light.
And this war isnât only mine.
No, itâs ours to fight, ours to define.
So if the weightâs too much to bear,
why not go where the weight is shared
Itâs just a short walk down the stairs,
yeah maybe weâll meet there.