The shimmering on the water leaves the outline of a stranger A silhouette of anger and disgust His words are cold as ice with syllables of isolation Defining his own hatred and disgust You can see the edge of his words From Here You can see the edge of the world From Here A veteran of living, he's no babe in the woods He's learned to walk; He's learned to fall down He'll lend a hand to no one In fear of a two-faced con man with a contract on the run Some say he belongs to the wind He starts where the end begins He won't fight for love; He threw it all away It's just a dangerous game he's learned not to play
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