| We ran away from normal life
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| We banned our names from all your signs
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| Erasers! |
| Erased Us!
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| We sped away from current time
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| There is no day
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| There is no night
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| Chip on our shoulders
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| The shame, the guiltiness, has faded out
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| The only thing that remains is cardboard
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| Boxes on a floating floor
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| Foreign addresses from foreign shores
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| And garden gloves on the entrance door
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| We took the measures, erasers and rulers We t the place
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| We’ll never give it back the way we found it
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| These ringing sounds are here to stay
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| These shells will blast until they break
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| This gardener, the visitors
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| Doesn’t he come around sometimes?
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| We’ve been waiting since then
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| We’re getting bored, it’s such a waste
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| The certainty of pointlessness
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| It’s everywhere
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| It’s been there for all these years |