| So this is where you’ve been?
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| A colonial apartment?
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| A white picket fence?
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| You know I pictured you determining
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| Success behind a diamond ring
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| But wedlock made you settle, kept you running from the truth
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| A certain age defines uncertainty I never could explain
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| So does the time create or move to make mistakes these days?
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| So this is where we’ll stay
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| The steps to your apartment seem such a long way
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| From the evenings on your father’s couch
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| And mornings in my father’s backseat
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| It was spatial exploration seeking seventeen
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| A certain age defines a confidence I never could explain
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| Some would say it’s wisdom, I would call it change
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| You pulled the calm from your charisma, once precociously arranged
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| What made the time create and move to make you blame these days?
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| So where’s the reckless lipstick and your south Philly neighbors?
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| Where are the memoirs of illegal behavior?
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| Where are the lovesick lines?
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| The «no trespassing» signs?
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| The after-hours trading X-rated favors?
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| Where are our teens?
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| How were your twenties?
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| Where are the forties that hide behind thirty?
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| Where’s the old soul?
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| What is this new person you’ve become?
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| Who have you become?
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| I closed my eyes and woke to your morning routine
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| A boring and contemporary scene
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| So this is where you’ve been? |