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I look up high to light in my eyes |
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but it's not really there |
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is there no flattering light for this girl |
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no sun that might lift her |
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no stars that might kiss her |
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swimming through small spaces |
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and breathing under water |
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the nights i push play and sing myself to sleep |
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i mother myself and i'm comforted |
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in the thought that i am |
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i smell the ink on this paper and that too is comforting |
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a slave to music, a slave to sorrow, a slave to love |
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biking through dirty water and i'm looking for that street |
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he appears, he's sorry, now he wants me |
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i ride through it all: water, people, love, night, day |
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and that was a good dream |
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such a sad girl, screaming in your face |
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but you can't hear, you're selfish |
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and you think she's trying to please you |
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a feeling is a mark, but waiting lasts forever |
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thinking of reasons why |
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oh the dream is better than the real thing |
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when the words just won't come |
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you're framed in lead |
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you've been hit hard |
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and you climb into bed |
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go inside, into the halls, past all the walls, |
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where nothing falls, |
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it's safe where you're small |
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safe where your small |
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safe when you're small |