| I’d circle everything you say
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| And point the bubble back towards your mouth
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| Photographs and photosynthesis
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| Everything’s to blame for all of this
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| Beauty lies and so does everyone else
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| Just like you
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| I can see my veins right through my skin
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| They are bluey-green and branch right off
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| Like those little floating highways
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| And the roadmapped river
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| Nervous systems make me nervous
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| Especially now that they’ve hurt us
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| Lying still I feel this silence stir
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| And if your mind was to duplicate itself
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| Slowly grow into an ocean
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| Would you reabsorb and let the current pull you in
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| I can feel my lungs fill full with air
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| They are pinkish-red and branch right out
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| Like the tracks in the subways
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| Or the horns of the caribou
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| Yeah yeah yeah yeah |