| From inside the little beach arcade
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| The blizzard on machines
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| Destroying anything
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| Like a moment on which everything is hanging
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| It all dissolves, right at the door
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| I see you on those frozen northern shores
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| Your tears they drip a poem, a poem, a poem
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| A brittle stick of wood
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| Thats been floating in the sea for days
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| Just wind up in this place
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| And on my hand it scrapes your name
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| With the note, and apology
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| But it hurts you even more
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| I see it on those frozen northern shores
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| Its your tears, they drip a poem;
|
| I see it
|
| On those frozen northern shores
|
| Its your tears, they drip a poem
|
| I see it
|
| On those frozen northern shores
|
| Its your tears, they drip a poem
|
| This holiday has the stain and smell of emptiness
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| We taste it on our breath, but we make no comment
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| All we need is a few days to share some warmth
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| Make it like it was before
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| Make it like it was before
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| Like we see it on those frozen northern
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| Those frozen northern shores
|
| As your makeup starts to run
|
| I see you on those frozen northern shores
|
| Your tears they drip a poem, a poem, a poem |