| Trails the no home leave behind them
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| «God bless you» signs on a street corner lamp post
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| Maybe a vet of his own alley way
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| An «Ain't drunk yet wanna be» swallow song
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| Ain’t drunk yet wanna be
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| Bits of rubber hanging by a needle
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| Thread between childhood and where this is now
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| How does one wither or whittle down a tree
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| For blossoms that try to bear right circumstance
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| Blossoms that try to bear
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| So, it’s good out there? |
| Better than some…
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| Folks keep trying to bring back the summer
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| That returned an unreturnable smile
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| Shoe string in a nether wind
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| Fish bite on a silver hook
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| Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad
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| Hungry, it is, tired and old
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| 30 or 80 years, ticket the same
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| The game stay’s the right of the passing in time
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| Surrogate rhyme lingers tip o' the tongue
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| Surrogate rhyme lingers
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| So, it’s good out there? |
| Better than some…
|
| Folks keep trying to bring back that summer
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| That returned an unreturnable smile
|
| Shoe string in a nether wind
|
| Fish bite on a silver hook
|
| Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad
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| When I was young, my dreams flew in colors
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| Even did as the sore ocean rumbled
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| Now my feet wander the length of new countries
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| Red light holding my vision to come
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| And a green light holding my vision
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| And it sounds like dad
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| It sounds like dad
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| And it sounds like dad |