| She walked through the park in the dark
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| Her best friend was her own heart beat
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| With every little step she’d take
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| She’d get one step closer to leaving
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| Sitting in her kitchen at night
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| She listened to the washing machine
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| Just wishing that she could leave
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| But there were so many loads to clean
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| She could hear it in her head sometimes
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| Like the change that she was saving in a jar
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| And the chains on the front porch swing
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| Were creaking like steps in the dark
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| One day soon this is all gonna end
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| One day soon maybe it’ll all begin
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| He’d tell it to her all the time
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| He was the best thing she’d ever see
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| Oh he was stomping up and down the hall
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| But she could still hear the washing machine
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| She could hear it in her head sometimes
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| Like the change that she was saving in a jar
|
| And the chains on the front porch swing
|
| Were creaking like steps in the dark
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| One day soon this is all gonna end
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| One day soon maybe it’ll all begin
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| What a fine mess
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| Pretty fine indeed
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| But it’s just too much for me
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| For me and my washing machine |