| When I fall into your voice I’m in a world of my own
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| Every syllable a lullaby that makes me feel home
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| And I can think apart of meaning in every difference of tone
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| It’s like the Midas touched vocal cords of Mona Lisa
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| And you’re so hot that you can heat up while you’re in a freezer
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| The temperature changes when you walk in the room
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| And I admit my poetry is shallow compared to the way that you move
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| I just use my words and hope I don’t lose
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| It’s a competition, me versus the opposition optin' to check my optics then
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| choosing to go on and get it
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| Iron in my blood as much as love up in the words I’m spitting
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| Iron out the kinks to perfect the songs about you that I’m giving out to the
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| world. |
| And I’ll sing it proud
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| Like I’m singing in the rain, or I’m a wild child
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| Life ain’t a musical but it’s a sweet soundtrack with you
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| And the color scheme just lightens up everytime that I kiss you
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| And it’s different kind of bliss, something indescribable
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| By words I pen, and it’s only seen by spending time with you
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| From every sentence that leaves your lips in a leap into the abyss It’s
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| something different and I listen. |
| It’s what I like to do and to say it’s a sour
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| truth that I would face a pouting boo
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| If I would ever sound aloof when asked about the drowning truth
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| Of words you use to deliver what you mean to me and others
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| I would hide behind recordings of my love for you as cover
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| It' something beautiful to hear you talk about anything
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| So I hope you are content with just staying to speak with me |