| Running down a central reservation in last night’s red dress
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| And I can still smell you on my fingers and taste you on my breath;
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| Stepping through brilliant shades
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| All the color you bring
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| This time, this time, this time
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| Is whatever I want it to mean
|
| If this is where memories are made
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| I’m gonna like what I see
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| And everything that I ever took for granted
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| I’m gonna let it be
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| I step through every shade
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| All the color you bring
|
| This time, this time, this time
|
| Is whatever I want it to mean
|
| And everything and nothing is as sacred as we’d want it to be
|
| When it’s really all
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| Make it really all
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| Compared to what
|
| It’s like living in the middle of the ocean
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| With no future, no past
|
| And everything that’s good about now
|
| Well, might just glide right past
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| I’m stepping through brilliant shades
|
| All the color you bring
|
| This time, this time, this time
|
| Is fine just as it is
|
| And everything is sacred here
|
| And nothing is as sacred as I want it to be
|
| When it’s really all compared to what |