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These Dreams
par
Mike Shinoda
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Late nights, neon lights, dirt in your eyes from the telephone booth that you Cried in 'till your skin turned blue You look around with your head turned down, you don’t want to look proud but you want to be found And that's confusing All the photos on the floor from the night before remind you of a girl you ain't seen before And you wonder which one’s the real you These dreams Pick on the past trying to make something last That all the fates were fighting You've seen The real thing - lived the ending Of thеse dreams You made way for somе time in L.A. but the sky wasn't grey enough for you And it's hard to write a sad song under sunshine All the thoughts inside of your head started coming out as words no matter what you did and you Knew everyone was looking then Call it a breakdown - call it a fit - call it a girl who's dealing with sh*t Well I, I call it living These dreams Pick on the past trying to make something last That all the fates were fighting You've seen The real thing - lived the ending Of these dreams All the photos on the floor from the night before remind you of a girl you ain't seen before And you wonder which one's the real you These dreams Pick on the past trying to make something last That all the fates were fighting You’ve seen The real thing - lived the ending Of these These dreams Pick on the past trying to make something last That all the fates were fighting You’ve seen The real thing - lived the ending Of these dreams Late nights, neon lights, dirt in your eyes from the telephone booth that you Dreamt up last night
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