| I’ve been watching a slow thaw come around.
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| I’ve been waiting in the cold and hazy blue.
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| I’ve been driving alone out to the edge of town.
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| I’ve been thinking too much of you.
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| Last snowfall left splinters and some winters never end; |
| neither wane nor wear.
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| And sunshine is like lovers and some summers just pretend; |
| only warm the air.
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| It’s that I’m tired of the feeling here. |
| It’s too near to death,
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| it’s too jobless year-round.
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| It’s not the weather in the city or the highway moan.
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| Not the streets or the buildings, neither wooden nor stone.
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| Every reason to leave this place behind, why I should be alone,
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| Are made of flesh and bone.
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| I’ve been thinking of exile.
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| I’ve been thinking hit the highway and head up North.
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| I’ve been thinking cross the bridge and don’t turn back.
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| The only warmth is a warmth alone.
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| He packed up, took 75 northbound to a brand new life and
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| Waved goodbye to the world in the rearview mirror. |
| Saw it clearer in hindsight,
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| The shape of its skyline traced in a flame from the windows ablaze,
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| The people restless and the streetlights glowing like
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| Many beacons in the sea or like a lantern lit
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| For the ones still lost out in the dead of the night.
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| Like lightning striking darkness once, no thunder, no pain.
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| Have you ever watched a slow thaw come around?
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| Have you waited in the cold and hazy blue?
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| There’s an airport there out near the edge of town.
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| I’ve been thinking too much of you.
|
| Settled in that still forest like another phantom or another shadow cast by choice.
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| A noiseless chorus blows through the leaves and trees and brings a peace at last
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| From a place where the song kept changing just when he was starting to get it.
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| When he was starting to trust there’d be a day he’d find a way to keep the rust
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| at-bay,
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| There’d be a day he’d find a hum to help him muffle the past.
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| Like thunder underwater, he hears it fading and feels no pain at all.
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| To a Boring, Desperate City,
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| It’s been weeks since I’ve been around you. |
| Has the fear begun to fade away
|
| like sunlight when it sinks into the lake? |
| Are they now building up,
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| or breaking down and boarding up the fronts? |
| Has the whole town been
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| foreclosed now? |
| And what happened to those youthful dreams sunk deep in the
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| river weak? |
| Or got tangled up in weeds or else they’re stumbling drunk on Wealthy Street? |
| Or making plans to leave? |
| I need to leave. |
| I can’t marry this
|
| place. |
| I won’t bury the past. |
| I just need a change of scenery. |
| I will hold
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| these old streets sweetly in my head like her. |
| And I will praise their bravery
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| always till the end. |
| Let tongues confess the plague of joblessness a temporary
|
| illness. |
| Let us wave their flag from there to here then over and again and let
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| us hope for better things though we may not ever get them.
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| We will rise again from ashes one day. |
| Until then, just roll me away.
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| I need to leave but swear I will carry you in me until the end.
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| So, Tuebor, my home!
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| Your desperate friend, |