| You’ve torn your shirt
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| You’ve outgrown this town
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| Your friends are all scattered and you’re lonesome
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| But you’re still searching for music in the sounds
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| It’s a tame world would leave you unbroken
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| Oh lady, oh Mother, bring your garden to me
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| Pull it around my body so the world cannot see
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| The blue of my veins and the tracks on my cheeks
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| But leave the tulips for when I go under
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| But it’s not over by half
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| There’s a gold in your eyes blooming out through the black
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| And you’re still standing, your hand on the map
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| No it’s not over
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| Not over by half
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| When that day comes and the lights go dim
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| The weight off your shoulders, the sun off your skin
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| And the ones who have known you
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| Your lovers and friends
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| Will be marked by the spark that was taken
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| Here on the mountain I’m thinking of you
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| The birds are all singing, screaming of youth
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| And here I am holding, keeping a room
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| Just a place you can lay when you’re older |