| Walking into the billiards, alone in drag
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| Hours on 112, no ID in my bag
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| And the only light is the red open sign
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| Twelve angels, per three tables, lined in four lines
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| I’m here in midnight bioluminous
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| Twelve angels, one for each table
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| And the red open sign
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| Here in midnight bioluminous
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| I’ve fallen for an illusion
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| An instinctual cry for change
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| And I promised myself no more confusion
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| No more thoughts to derange
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| And as i sink into my vinyl chair
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| Someone tries to look it through me
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| I choose light to turn its way
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| And let the dark matter into me
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| I’ve fallen for an illusion
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| I see peers of mine staring my way
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| Drippy canine eyes
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| Trying to look it through me
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| And what do I do I turn
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| Tightly its way
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| And let the dark matter into me
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| What more can I say?
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| I’ve fallen for an illusion
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| Told myself no more confusion
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| Somewhere there’s a chord sitting in the air for me
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| But tonight I don’t wanna care for me |