| In the long hot summer nights and the cold dark winter days
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| In the clear hours of the early morning and in the late night drunken
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| Haze
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| I keep on seeing things in the corner of my eye
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| Like this guy in an old baggy t-shirt, smiling like he grasped something
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| That is hidden to the rest of us, the way he will stand completely still
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| While people just walk on by
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| Girl on a bike probably on her way home. |
| Girl in a car talking on her
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| Phone. |
| Phone girl does not see bike girl and hits her. |
| Bike girl makes a
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| Sickening sound as she hits the street. |
| People scream. |
| I am on my
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| Way home
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| Sad man standing slack jawed in line for a potato. |
| Sifting thru his
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| Pockets coming up old bus tickets and grocery store receipts. |
| Droopy
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| Eyes and baggy black jeans It’s his first time in Oslo
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| Pretty boy on one of those cruiser bikes Keeps checking his bedhead
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| Hairdo in the storefront windows while he chats to a beautiful girl
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| Something about wine and Portugal
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| Wild man blocking the way of a businessman Doing a
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| Spasmodic dance and screams Take a dump in my head Take a dump
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| In my head Take a dump in my head
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| We all come home to empty beds, doesnt matter if anybody s there or
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| Not, we all come home to chock full heads doesnt matter what you do
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| Or what you got we all come home to the silent voice that keeps on
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| Talking, and we try to cancel it out. |
| But it keeps on going like a drone
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| The good times used to kill me, now I am good at killing time |