| I’ve been waiting for you to come back since you left Minneapolis
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| Snow covers the streetlamps and the windowsills
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| The buildings and the brittle crooked trees
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| Dead leaves of December, thin-skinned and splintered
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| Never gotten used to this bitter winter
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| I’ve been wasted, angry and sad since you left Minneapolis
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| I wish my thoughts were pure like the driven snow
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| Like the heavens and the spring’s virgin buds
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| But they strangle me with their sin, fill me up with poison
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| Black clouds have covered up the sun again
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| I can always trace it back to that night in Minneapolis
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| Here on the seventh floor in a room I can’t call mine
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| Deadbolt on the door, 'do not disturb' sign
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| Shaking and trembling on the clean white linen
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| Slivers of starlight danced across the ceiling
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| A dozen yellow roses, all that’s left in Minneapolis
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| I wish I’d never seen your face or heard your voice
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| You’re a bad pain in my gut, I wanna spit you out
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| Open up this wound again, let my blood flow red and thin
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| Into the glistening, into the whiteness
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| Into the melting snow of Minneapolis |