| I used to walk from school to meet you
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| At the coffee shop and drink two
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| Cups of joe, then bum a smoke off anyone
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| And I’d play for you some songs I wrote
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| Most were about being alone
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| And how sad I got, my troubled thoughts, and giving up
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| Before I knew what troubled was
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| I never used to read, I never had the time
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| I’d be too busy writing about my own life
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| And everything we saw that day and how you made me feel
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| To assure myself that everything was real
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| I was never good at talking smoothly
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| So we’d stick to watching movies
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| Take to bed Eraserhead and The Squid and the Whale
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| And I’d play for you some songs I wrote
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| Most were about the way you spoke
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| And how sad I got when you’d stop and go to sleep
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| Before you knew just what they mean
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| I’d dream about a time where everything was fine
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| Where every single passing day didn’t feel like a waste of time
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| I saw so many things today, but didn’t feel alive
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| I’ve died, I’ve died, I’ve died
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| Now, I don’t remember how you speak
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| I mean, it comes to me in dreams
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| But by morning, I lose everything you ever said
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| So I am going to bed |