| Living in the basement and losing my mind
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| Smoking mother nature until I go blind
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| And if you live long enough you’re bound to see it all
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| For example, take the girlie apparition in my hall
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| Shaking her finger and looking at me,
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| But there’s something not right about the way she sees
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| She got white eyes
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| She say everybody here gonna have white eyes…
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| She got white eyes
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| …unless
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| Under three pairs of glasses there’s some glass, some glass, some glass
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| Now a week in the country is just what I need
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| It gets so quiet I can hear myself bleed
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| And there’s a moon on the mountain
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| A wind through the trees
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| And I still couldn’t tell you how that ghost girl sees
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| She seems to be committing an optical crime
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| She is a spectral spectacle looking at me all the time
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| With white eyes
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| She say everybody here gonna have white eyes…
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| She got white eyes
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| …When they die
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| And if you’ve got those baby blues, baby, get ready to kiss 'em goodbye.
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| Things are no longer what they seem
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| When her freight train picks up its head of steam
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| There’s no clear line between death and dream and the
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| ferocious haze of love.
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| Now the gates are swinging open
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| And I’m coming through
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| And I can hear the choir start singing their tune
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| As I take my last steps toward that guiding light
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| I can hear that ghost laughing as my eyeballs turn white
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| I got white eyes
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| I say everybody here gonna have white eyes…
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| I got white eyes
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| …like me It ain’t until you lose your sight that you know just what it means to see. |