| Lit up like a Christmas tree, the oil refinery glows in the night;
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| And down by the shoreline the seagulls fly white, against the black
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| The great moon riding shotgun — rolling out across the veil of clouds
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| And you were small, and lying awake listening to the noises in the house
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| With the best of them you ran, like all of us, in our season
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| Casting memory aside — your history, all forgotten;
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| Driven onwards through the years in love with each distraction
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| But all the while, the past is close behind;
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| Like headlights on your tail, headlights on your tail
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| Your pulse is beating faster now, like a bird flying hard against the wind;
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| Trying to understand all the crazed compulsions that you feel
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| And all the little jealousies and betrayals, they echo in the dark;
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| And somewhere back through it all, the key is still turning in the lock
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| Now the ghosts that you have laid, they all come out to greet you;
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| The knowledge that you’ve gained — well, none of this protects you
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| You’ve been so very far, still peace will not embrace you
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| For all the while the past is close behind
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| Like headlights on your tail, headlights on your tail |