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Sunset on Snohomish. |
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Burn the tree line down. |
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Hold my hopes underwater, |
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Stand there and watch them drown. |
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Fishing out their bodies, |
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From the bathroom sink. |
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Leave them in a bucket, |
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Til they start to stink. |
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I think I'll stay here, |
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Til I feel whole again. |
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I don't know when. |
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Trout swim past the fishing lines. |
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Sky gets dark and close. |
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Cars start up and make, |
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Their nightly exodus. |
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On a picnic bench alone, |
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Watch the sky go dark. |
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Dig my nails into my hands, |
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Hope it leaves a mark. |
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I think I'll stay here, |
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Til I feel whole again. |
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I don't know when. |