| Sometimes when I lay down at night
|
| I swear I can see to heaven
|
| For it’s in dreaming that the things
|
| I always knew
|
| Are the only thoughts I have
|
| And when I look up at you, love
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| Handsome as a magazine
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| Wild as the sun, like nothing below
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| Could ever pull you down
|
| But it’s a hard road that we follow
|
| The saddest cities, and the darkest hollows
|
| People cross this world
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| Over and then back again
|
| Never even one time lift their eyes
|
| Or think of what they say
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| But I hear it in your voice, love
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| Like someone sweetly willing
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| The hope of all these years
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| The prayer of a time
|
| That we don’t even know
|
| But it’s a hard road that we follow
|
| The saddest cities, and the darkest hollows
|
| But I hear it in your voice, love
|
| The strongest sound
|
| I’ve ever heard
|
| Like water from a well
|
| So deep in the ground
|
| I’ll never thirst again
|
| But it’s a hard road that we follow
|
| The saddest cities, and the darkest hollows
|
| And everything that’s far away
|
| And was lost from me
|
| I see it all from here in you |