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The island's small and desolate |
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The highways stretch towards nothingness.. |
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Weeds infest our front lawn, the picket fence impales the sun that silhouettes on our houses dressed up in luminesce. |
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And the softest part of your flesh helps my body ingest sleep in the dead of the summer. |
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I will pretend that you won't be gone |
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Distance dilutes and rewrites and rewrites |
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And I will pretend that you wont be gone |
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Distance dilutes and rewrites (this song) |
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The island's small and desolate |
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The highways stretch towards nothingness |
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Weeds infest our front lawn, the picket fence impales the sun that silhouettes on our houses dressed up in luminesce |
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And the softest part of your flesh helps my body ingest sleep in the dead of the summer |
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I will pretend that you won't be gone |
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Distance dilutes and rewrites and rewrites |
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I will pretend that you won't be gone |
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And distance dilutes and rewrites (this song) |
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But I keep asking you to tell me what is wrong |
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And you, you just tell me that it's nothing, at all |
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But in your helplessness |
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I can see, you know |
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I can see |
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The softest part of your flesh helps my body ingest sleep in the dead of the summer |
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I will pretend that you won't be gone |
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That distance dilutes, rewrites and rewrites |
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And I will pretend that you won't be gone |
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Distance dilutes it rewrites and rewrites |
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And I will pretend that you won't be gone |