| I hear the train all night, sound of its wind blowin' through
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| Our subtle lives…
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| And I have a job to do, walking these cars, walking all this sleep
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| To get to you
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| But I don’t feel you stir beside me
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| And you’re not in my morning hours
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| Some ties are made to break; |
| some stalks grow high and green to rot away
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| And feel the weight
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| And these lines tell the truth, these city veins answer all they do
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| So, could you keep me in the pulses?
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| Could you keep me in the sound?
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| I got wise and I got old
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| Not once, not once did I fold
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| So don’t you now
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| Maybe you bet on me, while we were still young enough to know
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| What to believe
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| But for every year you took, for every soft breath or loving look
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| Believe me
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| And don’t keep me like you have me
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| And don’t kiss me like you don’t
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| I got wise and I got old
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| Not once, not once did I fold
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| So don’t you now
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| Some land holds a home; |
| some of my years only hold… me to roam
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| But I tell myself it’s true, you see a home, you see a man
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| You see it too
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| And I say don’t you know you have her?
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| Go on kiss her now you boy
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| I got wise and I got old
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| Not once, not once did I fold
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| So don’t you now
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| I got wise and I got old
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| Not once, not once did I fold
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| So don’t you now |