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Carl Sagan's calm attitude |
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Things are going well, friends coming home |
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and me, I'll be there soon |
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And it's hot and these cloths are wearing thin |
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And I'm riding backwards on our tree |
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And I'm carving letters on this tree |
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He's sleeping with bark ships on his tongue |
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And he's dreaming that his mouth tastes like blood |
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And now you're it, chasing chain link fences on our run |
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And no one, no one gives a fuck what we'll become |
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Pay attention |
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Pay attention |
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Pay attention |
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Pay attention |
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And I'm riding backwards on this tree |
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And I'm viewing the cosmos from our street |
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And I'm Chasing letters up this tree |
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And I'm riding backwards down our street |
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And I'm riding backwards down our street |
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And I'm riding backwards down our street |