| Late at night cloudy white will creep over my old house
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| And the chair where I once sat
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| Someone new is there and he’ll stare at that wall
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| And we’re all parts of an alphabet
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| We spell new words in new spots we’re at
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| And the big, round, blue boat drifts around in the dark
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| When you feel like a jerk does it make you confused
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| Like how could you become as awesome as you are
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| And still feel like a loser
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| When you feel ugly and petty
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| Awkward and unsteady
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| Just try not to forget there’s so many people who’ve liked you
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| And I hope that the art school enjoys your big drawing of ruin
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| We’ve all got good things to do and it’s good when we do them
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| From Austin to Brooklyn
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| They’re all smart and good-looking
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| We’re all parts of an alphabet
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| Spell new words with new folks we met
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| And the big, round, blue boat drifts around in the dark
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| And the big, round, blue boat drifts around in the dark
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| And they say that we’ll drift for awhile until we die
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| And the sun hits a spiral
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| It’s a combination lock
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| And I’m just hoping that I’ll get it open
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| And that these joys and frustrations are just turns in the combination |