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I came to your party dressed as a shadow and you never knew, you never knew |
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I rolled through the halls like a velvet wave, as quiet as an empty stage |
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I blackened your eyes and stole the light from your glass |
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But in the cold calm of the morning, lay like a death-kite on your lawn |
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I came to your party dressed as a shadow, without invitation, without a motive |
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I parked three streets from the moonlight - the soft walk to your house on a silver string |
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You were dancing in the backyard to a biscuit-tin beat |
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I slunk between the notes, posting them off to the night |
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This is symptomatic of you and me : i have jars full of your breath |
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I have shelves of your words but you have nothing of me but a space where i would be |