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I see his eyes moving away from me |
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Oh no, is this another albatross? |
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He knows he holds dominion over me |
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But what I gain is worth the cost |
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We share the cold embrace of cousins |
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I wonder if I've seen him somewhere else before |
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And as I wonder at his ancestry |
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I miss the meeting by the door |
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And in the telling of the story |
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I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase |
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I read his lips and I see glory |
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But what I hear is 'be afraid' |
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So from the fog of every morning |
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Until the heat of day is still |
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I watch the clock as it turns backwards |
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I see the water run uphill |
|
And in the telling of the story |
|
I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase |
|
I read his lips and I see glory |
|
But what I hear is 'be afraid' |
|
And in the telling of the story |
|
I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase |
|
I read his lips and I see glory |
|
But what I hear is 'be afraid' |