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Staring out of his window as the world rushes by |
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Arthur Robinson closes the glass and replies |
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"I dream of ballerinas and I don't know why but I see, Cadillac's sailing |
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I was born on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay |
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But Maryland and Virginia have faded away |
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And I keep thinking tomorrow is coming today |
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So I am endlessly waiting |
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And the comet is coming between |
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Me and the girl who could make it all clean |
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Out there in the shadow of the modern machine |
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Walks St. Robinson in his Cadillac dream |
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Carrie's down in her basement, all toe shoes and twinned |
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With the girl in the mirror who spins when she spins |
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From where you think, you'll end up to the state that you're in |
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Your reflection approaches and then recedes again |
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And the comet is coming between |
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Me and the girl who could make it all clean |
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Out there in the shadow of the modern machine |
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Walks St. Robinson in his Cadillac dream |
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I have dreamed of a black car that shimmers and drives |
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Down the length of the evening to the carnival side |
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In a house where regret is a carousel ride |
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We are spinning and spinning and spinning and now |
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There's a hole in the ceiling, down through which I fell |
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There's a girl in a basement coming out of her shell |
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And there are people who will say that they knew me so well |
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I may not go to heaven |
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I hope you go to hell |
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And the comet is coming between |
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Me and the girl who could make it all clean |
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Out there in the shadow of the modern machine |
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Walks St. Robinson in his Cadillac dream" |