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The clouds drew dark as |
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I rolled in |
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I sat down next to a man with five empty cups in front of him |
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He said "aren't you a little too young to be alone in these parts" |
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If being alone is completely lost then |
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I guess I am |
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The storms carried me home, over parades |
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The people caught colds, from the pouring rain |
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When you sit on this lawn, you are not in order |
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This painting's ready for it |
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At the age of six is when |
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I started talking |
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At the age of ten is when |
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I started walking |
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They told me |
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I would never get to fully express myself |
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And any place that |
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I wanted to go |
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I could only go in my mind, so... |
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The storms carried me home, over parades |
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The people caught colds, from the pouring rain |
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When you sit on this lawn, you are not in order |
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This painting's ready for it |
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And I'll take the hands that gently sweeps across the planes of your physique |
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Retire them into stables with horses that no one has rode |
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The planes always pass my body and cast the darkest shadow |
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If I told you where |
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I was heading, you still wouldn't follow |
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The storms carried me home, over parades |
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The people caught colds, from the pouring rain |
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When you sit on this lawn, you are not in order |
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This paintings never framed us together |
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I'm missing from your pictures these days |