| What is it that I want?
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| How long is it that I want it?
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| Met you first, fifth of August
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| End of May, 2064
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| Bend your knees in the forest
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| Bend your knees when you crawl inside
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| You believed I was flawless
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| I believe
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| That the only
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| Way it’s ever gonna stop
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| Is when desperation grows
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| So I point out
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| All the places on the map
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| Where there’s fragrant lemon groves
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| Don’t forget that
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| Everything is fake here
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| Built for face and all for show
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| Place a shoulder
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| Deeper in the corner
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| And the whole thing takes the floor
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| It’s original
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| To pray for sudden death
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| Original
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| I wear your summer dress
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| I’m nostalgic for life that
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| I’m not sure was ever even mine
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| Did I fix up houses weekends?
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| Was I a house painter, weekend I
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| Driving cars out of Egypt
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| Egyptian car driver animal
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| Love it best when it’s weakest
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| Love you best then
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| By the water
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| Tower physical
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| Is the ransom cost of rain
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| Every autumn
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| Is a little shorter
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| Every nape provides a name
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| It’s prophetic
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| Semper with the panic
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| And it absolutely moves
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| I’m more heinous, pointless and more famous
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| Than a single family room
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| It’s original
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| To pray for sudden death
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| Original
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| I wear your summer dress
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| And though we’re naked
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| We’re still difficult to find
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| From a pine and needle tree
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| As a concept, it’s an empty one
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| Not a substance of belief
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| Then as nothing
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| I reclaim as nothing
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| Bear the canyon absolutely
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| It’s lurching how much I’m reminded
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| There’s a cost of absolution
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| It’s original
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| To pray for sudden death
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| Original
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| I wear your summer dress
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| I remember it all
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| I never could forget
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| Not reaching up
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| It’s stapled on my back
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| Not reaching up
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| Not reaching up |