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Must have been an angel laying on me then |
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And with those curtains blowing on our closed windows |
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And there are no reminders, but I've known all along |
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I'm citing conversation word for word with you and |
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Elaborations |
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Dotted language |
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Not the inevitable |
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Not the eye contact |
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That was a sell |
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I have a photographic memory sometimes |
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They'll stay up for hours just in case |
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You'd understand my crisis, so what |
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It's not a crisis at all |
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And we have built an empire of sorts of free time |
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And I'll sell you my labor, of course |
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It's mine |