| Once I had a dream that I was standing in Osaka
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| There was a geisha and a refugee
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| And deep down in her pocket was a tarnished silver locket
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| And a picture frame that had always been empty
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| She takes that refugee to town and keeps her eyes down on the ground
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| As if she’s waiting for the earth to open up
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| And pull the geisha and that man into the cauldrons of Japan
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| Beneath the streets that only serve to keep the gravity at bay
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| She talks, I sleepwalk
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| And I did not hear a thing
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| Once I had this dream there were two starcrossed teenage lovers
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| Trying to keep their secret safe from everyone
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| Because if their parents ever learned this, they would slash and they would
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| burn this
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| And everything they know would be undone
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| So they hid beneath the bleachers, out of view from all the teachers
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| As the marching band played Hail to the Team
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| It was the last game of the season, they were shaking, they were freezing
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| There was nothing but their bodies in between
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| She talks, I sleepwalk
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| And I did not hear a thing
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| Once I had this dream that I could see inside your mind
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| And all the mysteries unraveled like a thread
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| Once I had this dream that I could see inside my own mind
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| Past denial and the walls inside my head
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| And it all was making sense as I let go of my defenses
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| And I saw the world for what it really was
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| And I opened up my eyes to see the end of the disguise
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| But I went blind before I even saw a thing
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| She talks, I sleepwalk
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| And I did not hear a thing
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| She talks, I sleepwalk
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| And I did not hear a thing |