| Bright cloud
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| Feels weird to be alone now
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| Cruising sidewalks toward the train
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| Trying to find thoughts to explain
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| The significance of a newfound solitude
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| Far away
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| Wondering what constitutes the place we stay
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| Is it the company we keep?
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| Is it the bed in which we sleep?
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| Is it the frameworks of our dreams?
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| 'Cause I feel a disjuncture
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| Sometimes when I’m unsure
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| Between the things that we’re doing
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| And the people we were
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| But it seems to fall together
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| When I show it all to you
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| Gliding
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| Back to the East Bay and I’m sighting
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| Handsome boys out on the street
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| That I see from my window seat
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| That make me wish that you were here
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| 'Cause I’d like to see
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| Your favorite metaphor for family
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| Could it be hills of golden grass?
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| Could it be presence in the past?
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| Could it be mountains made of clouds?
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| Yeah the ways we envision
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| The worlds that we want
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| All the things that I treasure
|
| They go on and on
|
| And I know it’s simplistic
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| But there’s comfort in change
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| Some things’ll be different
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| Some things stay the same! |