| I spent a week drinking the sunlight of Winnetka, California
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| Where they understand the weight of human hearts
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| You see, sorrow gets too heavy and joy it tends to hold you
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| With the fear that it eventually departs
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| And the truth is I’ve been dreaming of some tired tranquil place
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| Where the weather won’t get trapped inside my bones
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| And if all the years of searching find one sympathetic face
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| Then it’s there I’ll plant these seeds and make my home
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| I spent a day dreaming of dying in Mesa, Arizona
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| Where all the green of life had turned to ash
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| And I felt I was on fire, with the things I could have told you
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| I just assumed that you eventually would ask
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| And I wouldn’t have to bring up my so badly broken heart
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| And all those months I just wanted to sleep
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| And though spring, it did come slowly, I guess it did its part
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| My heart has thawed and continues to beat
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| And I visited my brother on the outskirts of Olympia
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| Where the forest and the water become one
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| And we talked about our childhood
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| Like a dream we were convinced of
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| That perfect, peaceful street that we came from |