| God bless the daylight, the sugary smell of springtime
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| Remembering when you were mine
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| In a still suburban town
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| When every Thursday I’d brave those mountain passes
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| And you’d skip your early classes
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| And we’d learn how our bodies worked
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| God damn the black night, with all its foul temptations
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| I’ve become what I always hated when I was with you then
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| We looked like giants in the back of my grey subcompact
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| Fumbling to make contact as the others slept inside
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| And together there
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| In a shroud of frost the mountain air began to pass
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| Through every pane of weathered glass
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| And I held you closer than anyone would ever guess
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| Do you remember the J.A.M.C.
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| And reading aloud from magazines
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| I don’t know about you, but I swear on my name
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| They could smell it on me
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| But I’ve never been too good with secrets
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| No…
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| And together there
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| In a shroud of frost the mountain air began to pass
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| Through every pane of weathered glass
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| And I held you closer |