| While you were gone I washed all the windows
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| So I could get a better view of your return
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| While you were gone I changed all the bed sheets
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| So I could lie without the anger as I turn
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| I reset the clocks so I could forgive you for being late
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| But the moment they stop is the moment you tell me to have some faith
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| To build a house on quicksand
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| That’s what you’re asking me to do
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| To give you the heart you’ve broken
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| How can that feel alright to you?
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| In the end, I let the windows get dirty
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| I couldn’t stand to see your absence through the glass
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| And in the end, I learned to sleep with the light off
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| So tired from giving space to shadows of the past
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| I used to reset the clocks so I could forgive you for being late
|
| Then the moment I stop is the moment you tell me to have some faith
|
| To build a house on quick sand
|
| That’s what you’re asking me to do
|
| To give you the heart you’ve broken
|
| How can that feel alright to you?
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| Do I wait for you?
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| Does that comfort me?
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| Do I see you through?
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| Or do I walk on by?
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| Can I flick the switch?
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| And forget your name?
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| Do I crawl right back
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| When I know that there’s no safety in your arms?
|
| To build a house on quick sand
|
| That’s what your asking me to do
|
| To give you the heart you’ve broken
|
| How can that feel alright to you?
|
| How can that feel alright
|
| How can that feel alright
|
| How can that feel alright to you? |