| That winter
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| I didn’t make a sound
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| I put my head down
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| And waited for the warmth to come
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| But I swore that on the first nice day that I was off
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| I’d pump up my tires and ride out to the lake
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| And just stare out
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| And somewhere out in the blue
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| I’d learn to feel like I did when I was 20
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| When everything was new
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| When everything was huge
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| That heavy-hearted hope
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| Like driving home from shows at night
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| Like driving home from seeing Low for the first time
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| But I can’t go back there
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| And I’m looking for something to fill that whole in my heart
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| That heavy-hearted hope
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| Like listening to Know By Heart three times in a row
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| On the way home |