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So hold your head up high and know its the end of the road
Walk down this beaten path before you pack your things and head
Home
At the end of the road youll find what youve been longing for
I know cause my feet have the scars to show
I was lost with vague direction and no place to call home
Its time for you to press on
This is not your war
Set your sites to the North and press on
This is not your escape
Wash away what they though of you
Because in this place, were all as good as dead
end cycle
Behind the mask youll find yourself alone