| It must have been a year since
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| I was thrown across an ocean far from home
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| And I was making oceans
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| Riding in between the highs and lows
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| Woah, when awake in the morning I
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| You is the first on my mind
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| Maybe what I miss most
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| It wasn’t made of steel and stones
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| And maybe what I miss most
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| It wasn’t born of skin and bone
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| Under the sun, up on the waves
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| Under three climbs when I’m far away
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| Maybe what I miss most
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| And maybe you’ll never know
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| And maybe you’ll never know
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| And maybe you’ll never know
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| Life beyond the window
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| I’m jealous of the way the black bird flies
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| Free among the people
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| Those quarter million stories pass me by
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| Woah, I awake in the moonlight I
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| You is the last on my mind
|
| And maybe what I miss most
|
| It wasn’t made of steel and stones
|
| And maybe what I miss most
|
| It wasn’t born of skin and bone
|
| Under the sun, up on the waves
|
| Under three climbs and I’m far away
|
| Maybe what I miss most
|
| And maybe you’ll never know
|
| And maybe you’ll never know
|
| And maybe you’ll never know
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| I remember at the table
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| All those faces, where did they go?
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| I imagine what it looks like
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| When I’m not there
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| I remember, every summer
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| But now that years are, just a number
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| There’s no backroots
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| Time is faster with everything I’ve left behind
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| O but maybe what I miss most
|
| It wasn’t made of steel and stones
|
| And maybe what I miss most
|
| It wasn’t born of skin and bone
|
| Cause under the sun, up on the waves
|
| Under three climbs and I’m far away
|
| Maybe what I miss most
|
| And maybe you’ll never know
|
| And maybe you’ll never know
|
| And maybe you’ll never know |