| If I could play back every moment to you now
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| Spent lovesick and swollen on Mornings mincing garlic on the counter by the sink
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| If I could hit the instant replay on only every good day
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| Would any of it catch you by surprise?
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| When you say, «something is missing now»
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| That’s what came back to me Normal mornings like that set the knife down and forget where I’d left it Making breakfast
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| Put coffee on the stove then scour every counter for the knife
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| Don’t be shy
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| Don’t be kind
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| Somewhere snow collects and bends the boughs of pines
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| But doesn’t it seem a bit wasteful to you
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| To throw away all of the time we spent perfecting our love in close quarters
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| and confines?
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| Isn’t it wasteful?
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| And I am terrified that it doesn’t feel painful to me yet
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| Somewhere on top of the high rise there’s a woman on the edge of a building at the ledge
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| And traffics backing up on 35
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| It’s alright
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| I will fix whatever is not the sweetness in your eyes
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| Just sit down
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| Please
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| Sit down
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| Here
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| At the table and we’ll talk
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| Somewhere televisions light up in the night
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| I know things weren’t right
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| Maybe we were never cut out for the Midwest life
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| Maybe we’d have done much better on a coast
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| There are certain things I doubt we’ll ever know
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| I know you were getting tired of my drinking
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| I guess I was never cut out for the coke scene
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| You were worried I would end up like your father and
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| Tired of the smoke and somewhere the wind blows
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| Somewhere a storm touches down north in Hudsonville
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| Somewhere the coffee starts to boil on the stove and
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| Somewhere the wind blows
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| Somewhere the river levels finally getting low
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| Somewhere I’m up past dawn till
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| Somewhere you live here still
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| Somewhere you’re already gone
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| Somewhere a radio is playing in a living room
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| Says the city lacks the funds to fix the bridge
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| Somewhere the deer are overrun so they’re introducing wolves back on the ridge
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| And from here in the kitchen
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| I can hear the neighbors in the alley hanging linens
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| And the men collect the trash bins in the street
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| You’re speaking to me but I can’t understand you
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| The coffee is burning and
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| All of the times that we spent
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| That road trip out west
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| Through desert for the rest stops the kitsch we both collect
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| That winter the whole weekend we huddled by the stove
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| The cabin I had rented
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| The unexpected snow
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| That visit for Christmas
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| On television binges
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| We’ll see friends in Brooklyn
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| Drive south to Richmond
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| There’s traffic on the bridge
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| A woman on the ledge
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| And everywhere the wind
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| EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING AT ONCE |