| We’re not quite a wild window
|
| Opened to the aching hot sun
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| Where the heat warms our eyelids
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| And our skins melt into one
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| We’re quite not a raging winter
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| There’s no snow where I come from
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| The stars pan over our foreheads
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| And our palms are wet and numb
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| No, you have not ruined me (yet!)
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| No, you have not ruined me (yet!)
|
| Despite your best efforts (yet!)
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| Despite your best efforts (yet!)
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| We might be struck by some notion
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| That each crossing path’s a new start
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| But it takes more than this moment
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| For us to find out what we are
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| It’s true, we’re not a wild window
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| And we might never be one
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| But we’re not just empty matter
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| Floating across the unknown
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| No, you have not ruined me (yet!)
|
| No you have not ruined me (yet!)
|
| Despite your best efforts (yet!)
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| Despite your best efforts (yet!) |