| I’m not Robert Frost
|
| If I wrote a poem about the weather
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| It would start in my car
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| Digging out
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| For an hour
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| And this town is all just dirt and earth
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| And a little lie
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| And a bigger hurt
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| No, I shouldn’t have
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| Left my house in the first place
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| I guess
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| But I always go back to where I’m meant to be
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| I go back to where I’m meant to be
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| So on a polar high that I found one night it was cold outside
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| Where your frozen hands are so much like mine
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| But they don’t compromise
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| Now I’m looking at the ground because I don’t want you to leave
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| I know it’s co-dependent
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| But I think it’s kind of sweet
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| Out of every person in this city
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| I could ever meet
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| Leaving feels like losing
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| But I’m learning what I need
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| I go back to where I’m meant to be
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| I go back to where I’m meant to be
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| In the morning
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| In the morning
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| I want to know when it stopped
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| The eye of the storm
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| Everything is not what it was
|
| I want to know when it stopped
|
| The eye of the storm
|
| Everything is not what it was
|
| And I’m not Robert Frost
|
| I wish that I’d replied
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| I wish he hadn’t died |
| I wish a lot of things
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| The day you lost your dog
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| And I lost my car
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| Was a Saturday
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| But the frozen air
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| And the frozen ice
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| And the biggest hurts
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| And the boldest lies
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| Are gonna disappear
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| Like the melting point
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| Like my melting rules
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| And my melting life
|
| I go back to where I’m meant to be
|
| I go back to where I’m meant to be
|
| In the morning
|
| In the morning
|
| I want to know when it stopped
|
| The eye of the storm
|
| Everything is not what it was
|
| I want to know when it stopped
|
| The eye of the storm
|
| Everything is not what it was
|
| And I’m not Robert Frost
|
| I’m not Robert Frost
|
| If I wrote a poem about decision
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| It would start and it would end in the same place |