| I often sit and wonder how your hand would feel
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| If we were sitting on my carpet sharing chamomile
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| Keep a lot of little secrets that I can’t reveal
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| Until we’re high at 3: AM just sharing chamomile
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| I often sit and wonder how your hand would feel
|
| If we were sitting on my carpet sharing chamomile
|
| Keep a lot of little secrets that I can’t reveal
|
| Until we’re high at 3: AM just sharing chamomile
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| I guess
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| I’ve got letters that I’ve written
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| A few of them I’m tempted to incinerate
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| They tend to pile up around my desk
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| At the frequency of sadness and dinner plates
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| It’s easy to get lost inside of memories
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| It’s harder to pretend that isn’t bothersome
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| You told me 'bout your favorite kinds of flowers
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| So I went to the market and I got you some
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| And I didn’t even break down when I left my house
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| (maybe it’ll all be ok)
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| I didn’t even get anxious when I went out
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| (maybe it’ll all be ok)
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| You know, the words never sound quite right when they leave my mouth, my mouth
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| (maybe it’ll all be ok)
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| But, darling, just finish your tea, and we’ll go lay down
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| (we'll go lay down)
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| We can go lay down
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| I often sit and wonder how your hand would feel
|
| If we were sitting on my carpet sharing chamomile
|
| Keep a lot of little secrets that I can’t reveal
|
| Until we’re high at 3: AM just sharing chamomile |