| In my head, I found you there
|
| And running around and following me
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| But you don’t dare
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| But I find that I have now more than I ever wanted to
|
| So maybe Thomas Jefferson wasn’t born
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| In your back yard like you have said
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| And maybe I’m just the horizon you run to
|
| When she has left you there
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| You are here in my head
|
| And running around and calling me
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| «Come back, I’ll show you the roses that brush off the snow
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| And open their petals again and again»
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| And you know that apple green ice cream
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| Can melt in your hands, I can’t
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| So I held your hand at the fair
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| And even forgot what time it was
|
| And even if Thomas Jefferson wasn’t born
|
| In your back yard like you have said
|
| And maybe I’m just the horizon you run to
|
| When she has left you and me here alone on the floor
|
| You’re counting my feathers as the bells toll
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| You see the bow and belt and the girl from the south
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| All favorites of mine, you know them all well
|
| And spring brings fresh little puddles
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| That makes it all clear, makes it all
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| Do you know, hey?
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| Do you know what this is doing to me?
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| Here
|
| Here
|
| Here
|
| Here in my head |