| A muffled battle cry across the kitchen table
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| A baffling contretemps that shakes the day unstable
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| Confessions from the cab a habit that I got from dad
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| The flurry of departure in a cyclone of cologne
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| Would often devastate the gate and hedge
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| And set our tiny teeth on edge
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| I see it in me now and pledge
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| To knock it on the head that’s what I’ll do
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| A muffled battle cry across the kitchen table
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| Bridges up portcullis down and round the Tower of Babel
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| I’m babbling in my dreams of blue berserkers coming at me
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| Eyes and tongues and rusty knives
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| And God almighty laughing at me
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| From a fat boy fishing chair
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| I wake to find you laughing there
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| It’s nice to know how much you care
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| Decided I should spend my life with you
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| We protect our little fictions
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| Like it’s all we are
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| Little wilderness mementos
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| But there’s only you and me here
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| Fire breathing
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| Hold tight
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| Waiting for the original miracle
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| I’m trying to focus on the issues of the day please
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| Your paper’s upside down
|
| The radio’s in Chinese
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| These little tremors that are ripping through our rituals
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| That friction up the interaction
|
| Emanate from quite the greatest
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| Thing that ever happened to
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| A pair of boozy bowerbirds
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| Like me and you
|
| In other words
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| The alligator pear inside of you
|
| We protect our little fictions
|
| When we bow to fear
|
| Little wilderness mementos
|
| But there’s only you and me here
|
| Fire breathing
|
| Hold tight
|
| Waiting for the original miracle
|
| Fire breathing
|
| Hold tight
|
| Life is the original miracle
|
| Let’s get old
|
| Dare you now
|
| Mix blood with me
|
| All in
|
| Love is the original miracle
|
| Let’s get old
|
| Dare you now
|
| Mix blood with me
|
| All in
|
| Love is the original miracle
|
| Love is the original miracle |