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Did you mean the things you said? |
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Were you pulling ankles and legs? |
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Do you read when you go to bed? |
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Do you lie there shaking instead? |
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Cause it works both ways with the rain |
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leaving the words unread |
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and I want to have you again |
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listening to Bedhead |
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Try to get a little rest |
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There's a very big day ahead |
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I was lost like people feel |
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before they find God's love |
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The best I can say now, |
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"We made it alone, |
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no help from hot-air balloons, |
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saving us in the nick of time" |
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Don't get your hopes up |
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Keep them low |
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Try not to reach so high |
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Hard work won't pay off in the end |
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What a broken string of events |
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What a little tied up loose end |
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Are you mad that they are all dead? |
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Do you wish that you'd gone instead? |
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Are you pissed that when things got bad |
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there was one set of footprints in the sand? |
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When it's easy you walk alone |
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there's a mark for each of your toes |
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The best I could hope for |
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is what you'd expect |
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White lights like icicles |
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hung up above the porch |
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I'd just like to say now |
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before things go too far, |
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"I hated none of you, |
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I loved you all at the time" |
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I like having to run when I don't run |
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and it leaves me so, so tired |
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I want better for you and for my son |
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and the lives we're leading now |
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I like having a tongue when the words come |
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And even if it gets tied |
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I want cinnamon buns in the morning sun |
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in the airport waiting lines |
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I like having some fun like anyone |
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with loaded water guns |
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Your Canadian plum has got me numb |
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Like Novacain in my gum |
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The best is the smoke blown |
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back through the flue |
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like birds returning to a tree |
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Where their old nest used to be |
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Now things have changed |
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or maybe not |
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That's where you learn to fly |
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That's where our eggshell lies |