| If you’re willing to wait for the love of your life
|
| Please wait by the line
|
| And you know dispersive prisms rainbow
|
| But my native optimism isn’t broken by the light
|
| The idea of life without company fell suddenly
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| It crashed through the ceiling on me
|
| And pinned me to the pine
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| And layer upon layer of hope and doubt
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| Will crush bones to oil in time
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| Are you a pusher or are you a puller?
|
| I pull the weight towards me
|
| And I lack the zest of a lemon, looking forward
|
| Unless I have a woman pushing me
|
| A canopy of red-billed quelea
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| Passed over the blue
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| A five hour flock, not one dives down
|
| To tell you the truth
|
| As night falls, a quelea crawls
|
| And whispers on his last wings:
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| So abundant are we, left alone I shall be
|
| But a waited phone never rings
|
| Are you a pusher or are you a puller?
|
| I pull the weight towards me
|
| And I lack the zest of a lemon, looking forward
|
| Unless I have a woman pushing me
|
| Are you a pusher or are you a puller?
|
| We could hold hands for fifteen minutes in the sauna
|
| We could hold hands for a pool length under water
|
| I can push and pull
|
| Her
|
| If you’re willing to wait for the love of your life
|
| Please wait by the line |