The scarecrow host that you see has your blinded faith
You keep on waiting
Awake and smiling – well you’ll be the last to run
The spotlight is fading away – from me I guess; from you I guess
To whom shall I give my blood?
To whom shall I give my eyes?
‘cause I’ve seen too much of this life,
To whom shall I give my eyes?
The spotlight is fading away – from me I guess; from you I guess
Right…
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