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When the hills let go |
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Slowly fade into the water like some ancient lover |
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On a ship filled with ghosts |
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It's something to behold |
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When the paper thin girls |
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With twisting little braids in their hair |
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They take off their coats and throw |
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Pebbles and stones from the side of the boat |
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Crying out, "Stones, they float, stones, they float" |
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Oh my God, stones, they float, stones, they float |
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Down the burning ropes |
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Past the places where the steel beams meet concrete skies |
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You make your bed under the moonlight |
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I think it's time we said goodbye |
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'Cause nothing moves in the warm air |
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And words that once would cut like a knife |
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They just hang in the cloud and you're pushed by the Lord |
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But you're pulled by the crowds |
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And then you're overboard, you're overboard |
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Oh my God, she's overboard, my love, she's overboard |
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She's overboard, my love, she's overboard |
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'Cause not a shell unbroken |
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In the valley where my heartache and the timbers lay |
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It's not the time to be hanging around here |
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You know what some might say |
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That people get too reckless |
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That even with the simplest of crimes |
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They leave blood behind |
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As I clean the knife for the very last time |
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I think she knows, I think she knows |
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Oh my God, I think she knows, I think she knows |