| I hear you calling and I want to come
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| Run straight into the valleys of your arms and disappear there
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| But I know my love could fail you
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| Because in a clearing when the sunlight comes
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| Exposing all the shadows of/in our intricate behavior
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| I see/feel a sort of fading
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| We build our own unfolding
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| It’s in the morning when the sadness comes
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| The tears fall down in patterns on the windows
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| And our shape is undone
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| You only wanted holding
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| And I let my structure fail you
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| You know, I watched as it unfolded
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| And in the image of the other hand
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| A needle drawing pictures in the blood that runs the valley
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| Your honesty engraves me
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| Stay the line
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| The pain of its derailing
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| And in the water
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| Where a mirror opens up
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| To show the gravity of non-repeating patterns
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| When no one else can hold you
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| Come in and then unfold
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| Oh the lines
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| I’m lying just to hold you
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| It’s in the evening when the moonlight comes
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| Illuminating silver in the rivers as they fall/run into the sea
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| The beauty of their failure
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| As the tides erase their lining
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| There’s nothing left to hold to |