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It's casual |
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your chest lifts and falls |
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the beating oars of hearts, |
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now we are the vehicles. |
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what's yours? |
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blurry like a naked map of stars in your eyes. |
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It's casual |
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but we dress it up, |
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choirs of marching saints |
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in the long thigh waiting. |
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I knew it all, |
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but I don't know no one, |
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was it just on paper we were taken, taken in. |
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Envy turns the grass green in the spaces between the shaking and shaken. |
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We try to shake it off |
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so we dance all night |
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we were warriors in the moonlight. |
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Am I right? |
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Was I wrong? |
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Do we fight, fight, fight, fight on? |
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Envy turns the grass green in the spaces between the shaking and shaken |
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Envy turns the grass green in the spaces between the shaking and shaken |
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The shaking and shaken |