| Don’t say a word
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| Not because I know what you mean
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| Not because I’ve heard you say this before
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| But in this semblance of Democracy
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| It’s like a vacuum for what you overheard
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| Don’t say a word
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| Don’t call me back
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| Not because I didn’t call
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| Because I’m busy watching TV on my day off
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| And you might startle me with rational words
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| Contradicting all the news I just heard
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| So don’t call me back
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| Now a word is tense and bare
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| Like a trigger just a hair away from being pulled
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| You know I can’t pretend to know how this is going to end But don’t you feel
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| like you’re being fooled?
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| But you don’t say a word
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| Are you at work?
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| I called this morning but I guess I was late
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| Now we’re both waiting for the day that the dreams wane
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| With possibilities permanently sealed
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| Atrophied after their purpose revealed:
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| To keep you at work
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| Have you gone out?
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| I called but the place was too loud
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| Cacophony, I couln’t make out
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| If you wanted me over tonight
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| Another private tease as sense comes by daylight?
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| Or we could go out
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| Nouns pass for narration and camp sights for nations
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| But you’re just driving out of range
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| You struggle with phone, but it doesn’t matter, I’m not home
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| Besides, I’ve got nothing to say
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| Don’t say a word |