| On a cold wet afternoon,
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| In a room full of emptiness by a freeway,
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| I confess I was lost in the pages of a book full of death;
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| Reading how we’ll die alone.
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| And if we’re good we’ll lay to rest, anywhere we want to go.
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| In your house I long to be;
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| Room by room patiently,
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| I’ll wait for you there, like a stone.
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| I’ll wait for you there, Alone.
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| And on my deathbed I will pray to the gods and thee angels,
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| Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven;
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| To a place I recall, I was there so long ago.
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| The sky was bruised, the wine was bled, and there you led me on.
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| In your house I long to be;
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| Room by room, patiently,
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| I’ll wait for you there, like a stone.
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| I’ll wait for you there, alone. |
| Alone.
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| And on I read, until the day was gone;
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| And I sat in regret, of all the things I’ve done;
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| For all that I’ve blessed, and all that I’ve wronged.
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| In dreams until my death, I will wonder on.
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| In your house I long to be;
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| Room by room, patiently,
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| I’ll wait for you there, like a stone.
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| Alone, Alone, A-L-O-N-E
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| I’ll wait for you there, alone. |
| Alone. |