| Now you see it, now you don’t
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| Things make sense, and then they won’t
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| I can barely see across the bay
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| She’s so distant and obscure
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| I can’t escape from her
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| Until I’m far enough away
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| And Alcatraz comes in and out of sight
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| And Alcatraz is flashing in the night
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| And I think of the one, a distant blur
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| A piece of me still lodged in her
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| Held prisoner — she’s my Alcatraz
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| Things I think I almost know
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| Discontinued long ago
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| Once occurred inside her walls
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| And I can’t helping thinking of
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| Harsh rituals of love
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| That no one quite recalls
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| But Alcatraz doesn’t really care
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| And Alcatraz almost isn’t there
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| But I think of the one, so dear to me
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| Whose face I still can almost see
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| Distantly — she’s my Alcatraz
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| So un-together
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| Under the weather
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| I can’t make it out
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| And Alcatraz is a distant blur
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| So Alcatraz looks a lot like her
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| And I almost see her taking shape
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| And part of me still can’t escape
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| Nobody has — she’s my Alcatraz |