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The earth moves and the sun keeps still |
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Bathwater tides come in |
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A bird hits the window pane |
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With a joyless sound |
|
That echoes round and round |
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In your belly swim the spores |
|
We picked off the forest floors |
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And if you must cry with grief |
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Blow your nose right on my sleeve |
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Dreams push out reality |
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Sand kisses fingertips |
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Ghosts sing behind your ear |
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For the one you loved, who's never coming back |
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In the bathtub swim the spores |
|
We picked off the forest floors |
|
And if you must cry with grief |
|
Blow your nose right on my sleeve |
|
Blow your nose right on my sleeve |
|
Blow your nose right on my sleeve |
|
Blow your nose right on my sleeve |
|
Blow your nose right on my sleeve |