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Look straight in the window, try not to look below |
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Pretend I'm not up here, try counting sheep |
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The sheep seem to shower off this office tower |
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It's nine point eight straight down, I can't stop my knees |
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I wish I could fly |
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From this building, from this wall |
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If I should try |
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Would you catch me if I fall? |
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My hands clench the squeegee, my secular rosary |
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Ain't under your wallet, ain't under your rings |
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I can't look below me, something to throw me |
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I curse at the windstorms that October brings |
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I look straight in the boardroom, a modern Pharaoh's tomb |
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I'd gladly swap places, if they care to dive |
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They're lined up at the window, peer down into limbo |
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They're frightened of jumping, in case they survive |
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I wish I could step, from this scaffold |
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Onto soft green pastures, shopping malls, or bed |
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With my family, and my pastor |
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And my grandfather who's dead |
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Look straight in the mirror, watch it come clearer |
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I look like a painter, behind all the grease |
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Painting's creating, and I'm just erasing |
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Crystal clear canvas is my masterpiece |
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I wish I could fly |
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From this building, from this wall |
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And if I should try |
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Would you catch me if I fall? |
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I wish I could fly |
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From this building, from this wall |
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And if I should try |
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Would you catch me if I fall? |
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When I fall |
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When I fall |
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When I fall |
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... |