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I knew I wouldn't recognise you in a crowd There was a lack of decency and general politeness Acting on transparent tracks Seeing through signs Obscuring charm Glancing past considerable flaws Greyed out gates Lacking colour, lacking shape Camouflaging false pretenses And fictional pasts If we're made out of wood Then we'll float to the top Calm my nerves If we're made out of skin Then we'll learn to compete The animals have escaped From Letras Mania