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Linkin Park Miscellaneous Dedicated I have a dream of a scene between the green hills Clouds pull away, and the sunlight’s revealed People don’t talk about keeping’ it real (it’s understood that they actually will) And intoxicated and stimulated MC’s stairin’ in the trees, paranoid (are gone in the breeze) Watch them flee, hip-hop hits, take a walk with me And what you’ll see is a land where the sands made of crushed up wax (and the sky beyond you is krylon blue) And everybody speaks in a dialective rhyme MC’s have left materialism behind them Meanwhile, I just grip my mic and hope me and my team make it through alright Because say what you will And say what you might But don’t ignore who it’s for at the end of the night Cuz this is dedicated to the kids Dedicated to where the music lives Dedicated to those tired of the same old saying And dedicated to the people advancin’ the game What’s real? It’s the kids who know something’s wrong What’s real? It’s the kids who think they don’t belong What’s real? It’s the kids who have nowhere to run, who are hiding in the shadows, waiting for the sun I’ve see a lot of [shit] I’ve talk to a bum out on Sunset Strip He asked me how would you feel if everybody acted like you didn’t exist You’d lose your grip (probably eventually flip) So let it be known, the only reason that we do this So you can pick it up and just bang ya head to it While MC’s fight to see who can be the commonest We float overhead like a space odyssey monolith Overseeing the game Over being part of the same old thing It’s all gunna change, in a hurricane Darkness and pain, and acidic rain and promises you won’t do it again Meanwhile, I just grip my mic and hope me and my team make it through alright Because say what you will And say what you might But don’t ignore who it’s for at the end of the night (because) This is dedicated to the kids Dedicated to where the music lives Dedicated to those tired of the same old saying And dedicated to the people that advancin’ the game What’s real? It’s the kids who know something’s wrong What’s real? It’s the kids who think they don’t belong What’s real? It’s the kids who have nowhere to run, who are hiding in the shadows, waiting for the sun (Pulling me close, the shadow is warm inside This is where I feel at home, this is my place to hide Pulling me close, the shadow is warm inside This is where I feel at home, this is my place to hide) This is dedicated to the kids Dedicated to where the music lives Dedicated to those tired of the same old saying And dedicated to the people advancin’ the game What’s real? It’s the kids who know something’s wrong What’s real? It’s the kids who think they don’t belong What’s real? It’s the kids who have nowhere to run, who are hiding in the shadows, waiting for the sun This is dedicated to the kids Dedicated to where the music lives Dedicated to those tired of the same old saying And dedicated to the people advancin’ the game What’s real? Everybody who doesn’t feel safe What’s real? Everybody who knows they’re out of place What’s real? Anybody with no where to run, who hides in the shadows, waiting for the sun |
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