| I took my sister down to the ocean
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| But the ocean made me feel stupid
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| Those words of wisdom I had prepared
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| All seemed to vanish into thin air
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| Into the waves I stared
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| I picked up a seashell
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| To illustrate my homelessness
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| But a crab crawled out of it
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| Making it useless
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| And all my metaphors fell flat
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| Down on the rocks where we sat
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| She asked «where are you at?»
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| But sister, it’s the opposite of hallelujah
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| It’s the opposite of being you
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| You don’t know 'cause it just passes right through you
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| You don’t know what I’m going through
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| You don’t know what I’m going through
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| We made our way home on the bikes we had borrowed
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| I still never told you about unstoppable sorrow
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| You still think I’m someone to look up to
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| I still don’t know anything about you
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| Is it in you too?
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| You’ve got so much to live for, little sister
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| You’ve got so much to live for
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| But sister, it’s the opposite of hallelujah
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| It’s the opposite of being you
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| You don’t know cause it just passes right through you
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| You don’t know what I’m going through
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| You don’t know what I’m going through |