| Sounds like an air conditioner, the pounding of pistons
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| Bodies negotiating, a dog barks in a distance
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| Crickets and bullfrogs quietly graphic
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| The turning on pages, the droll roar of traffic
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| The pencil on a paper, the wind in a chimney
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| Thoughts in my head, hollow and (thinny?)
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| Alarmed clocks' sirens, the creeking of floorboards
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| Surf on a rocks, echoes in corridors
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| (?) riots, head on collisions
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| The ringing of telephones, the cooing of pigeons
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| After new playground voices next door
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| Defining stillness and starewells I explore
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| Electrical hum of anger and fear
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| Clothes hitting the floor, a bug in your ear
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| The turning of concrete trucks in a soil
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| Trees in a forest, a (pattern?) full boiled
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| I can hear myself blink, where did she go
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| Down in the hole, buried in snow
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| Under the water, should I fail to care
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| I go out and I follow a long trail of hair
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| What if I’m caught, what if it goes wrong
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| What was I thinking, I forgot to put clothes on
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| There’s a crack in the sky, a pain in my shoulder
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| When I was a kid, it’s the same when I’m older
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| I’m out of control with a crow in a shoebox
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| Out in the street wearing nothing but two socks
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| Now I’m confused from brighter to duller
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| The long trail of hair has begun to change color
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| From red to jet black, I just don’t get that
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| The last thing I need at this point is a setback
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| My heart and my (?), it hurts when I swallow
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| I got to stay focused and continue to follow |