| Remember when the grass was tall
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| And we built castles out of golden straw
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| Our feet were bare, our tangled hair
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| Blew in the humid ocean air
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| The old blue house reflected on
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| The mirrored sky within the silver pond
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| And horses grazed inside a maze
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| Of thistle thorns and barley blades
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| And I’m following a trail
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| That I’ve seen in fairy tales
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| But the crumbs I left behind are gone
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| So I’m trusting in my feet
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| And I’m skipping to the beat
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| Of a heart that’s sweet on finding home
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| We rode our bikes out in the rain
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| And felt the jingle of our pocket change
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| Off to explore the bins galore
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| Of penny candies at the corner store
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| And I’m following a trail
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| That I’ve seen in fairy tales
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| But the crumbs I left behind are gone
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| So I’m trusting in my feet
|
| And I’m skipping to the beat
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| Of a heart that’s sweet on finding home |