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Airports lines |
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I wish it was summertime |
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But it's Sunday night |
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And flight five-five-seven's arrived |
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She tells me |
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She's filled buildings with history |
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On 22nd Street |
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She's not invisible |
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My head aches |
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Echo park turns to silver lake |
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Where Millie's diner |
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Is closed today |
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I like the taste of chocolate cake |
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I close my eyes and I masturbate |
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I close the door because I'm afraid |
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He'll see me, I'm bored |
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She thinks of big blue whales |
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While she's biting her fingernails |
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She writes plays |
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I read paperbacks |
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They've just begun |
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3D picnics, electric sun |
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I don't care |
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Where you're coming from |
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He's up there on the 8th floor |
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And he's falling from the speakers |
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And his head's smashed |
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To the grounds |
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And every time you leave me |
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Call to love you |
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But I gotta go |
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Just watch me drown |
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And if someday's dry |
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We're going to Ransburg |
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It's hotter |
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Than hell there |
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We're invisible |
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And we're bullet-proof |
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We're invisible |
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And we're bullet-proof |