| Hang to the telephone wires
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| That follow me through the land
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| The rails i recognise in my hands
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| I draw black dots in my palms
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| Give them names and discover
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| A brand new world
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| But no matter where i go no matter
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| I still catch myself
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| In me i can’t invent a new landscape
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| I have trains advancing through my veins
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| I build stations and playgrounds for my mind to wader around
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| The nicotine and games i invent all over again
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| But no matter i go i catch myself
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| 'Cos i 'm tired of looking out
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| So i’ll hide in my world
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| All soft with words
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| Frontiers lost
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| In my things, in my eyes
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| In the touch i’ll never find
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| 'Cos no matter where i go i reach myself
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| 'Cos i’m inside out
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| Tripping over my voice
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| Lost in my noise
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| Tangled in my hair
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| But no matter
|
| I still find myself |