| How could I be nothing
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| Standing in the window
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| In front of the pale blue curtains three floors up
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| I’m watching the ground absorb the snow
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| Which had started falling
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| Tonight I don’t feel like going much further down the road
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| Scientists must have miscalculated
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| These imaginary scenes
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| That could never ever happen, not even in bad dreams
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| Then you’re drinking too much
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| That’s the way my life changes
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| Escaping but hardly for anything at all
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| I mistook the sound of ice breaking
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| For the scattered remains of the sun
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| Don’t think life ever will
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| Just lead you to anyone
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| Drinking in the cafe
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| Sat over by the window
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| Another cup of coffee won’t decaffeinate my soul
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| This luminous emptiness
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| This feeling of home
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| It’s perfect for a restless soul like the classic mix of poetry and rock & roll
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| Nothing’s fixed and static
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| Not even the old paintings on the library wall
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| Like details in design
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| The stars get closer in line with oceans
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| That have not been sailed before
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| And maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be
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| And maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be
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| And maybe that’s the way that I’m meant to feel |