| From the back of my brain
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| The confetti burst came
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| And it blew through the balls of my eyes
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| In a midnight as loud
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| As a cloud of cocaine
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| And horrendously swollen in size
|
| Saw the pen press the text
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| Through the flesh of your neck
|
| And the first line 'twas writ there was
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| And dark, dirty streams
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| The decay from our dreams
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| Leaves a black trail of grease through the snow
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| And is there a hotel there or is there a hole
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| Where our bodies all aching and aging can go
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| Oh, I leapt from the mountain and mid-falling down
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| Ran my trembling hands down your spine
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| 'Cause you have been, are currently holy to me
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| And will hopefully always be mine
|
| And 'cause you’re out on a razor line
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| In the storm’s scream and swirl
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| It’s where I saw my girl
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| I was pinning her straight to my side
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| When the devil all dinged-up and dragonfly-winged
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| Dropped his head in my lap and he cried
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| Once I spotted my man
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| Swooping over the sand
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| In the ambulance lamps of his eyes
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| And the smell of black blood on the backs of his hands
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| I could tell that his world can’t be mine
|
| And he said |