| There is a darkness to these jaded days
|
| Maybe it’s a seasonal affected disorder
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| Or maybe we’re just sad
|
| There is photosynthesis
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| We crane our necks for sunlight
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| There’s a different sun for everyone
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| And it’s bigger than me, this sun is bigger
|
| Yeah it’s bigger than me, this sun is bigger
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| So much more to eat, this sun is bigger
|
| To be bigger than me, this sun is bigger
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| There is a vacuum
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| There are boys with toys
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| These toys of coldness
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| And a smart arse
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| There is a cuckoo
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| Who’s been and lain in my nest
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| And the egg is hatching
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| And Christ I’ll never be able to feed it
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| 'Cos it’s bigger than me, this chick is bigger
|
| Yeah it’s bigger than me, this chick is bigger
|
| So much more to eat, this chick is bigger
|
| To be bigger than me, this chick is bigger
|
| Oh yeah!
|
| I should welcome all
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| Both fallow and fertile
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| I should welcome all
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| Both circumcised and gentile
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| But I can be so, so elsewhere
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| And I can be so, so cold
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| There is a world
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| So full of people
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| Full of love and shrapnel
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| Full of bag ladies and bag ladies and
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| Wicker men
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| And it’s bigger than me, this world is bigger
|
| Yea it’s bigger than me, this world is bigger
|
| Still so much more to eat, this world is bigger
|
| To be bigger than me, this world is bigger
|
| Am I a stone?
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| Am I a sponge? |