| Through the war and the soft spring rustle
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| Streets are selling some summer hustle
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| Across the Maple Street Bridge, in a bristling fog
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| Just whistling on is a bowl of prattle
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| Just a high snowball on a curb in the fall
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| Through the parking lot at Christmas
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| I heard a whisper, I heard him call
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| He was where the chest was
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| Only way our lives open wide and have a shade
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| That this is to say
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| If you’re on a ferry, freezing time for a while
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| Throw the waste, that’s where the spirit left
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| Underneath the house, stuck the frame out here
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| Smells like sweat and gasoline
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| And when you get hard and your eyes get mean
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| 'Cause you’re on the march but I could almost kiss you
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| Don’t let them swish you, you have this song, you can take it with you
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| Stay lonely, open wide as a fire, a flame
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| Don’t be ashamed
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| Loose a little, lied eyes while our lives fade to gray,
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| Did the silence drop? |
| Did your Walkman stop?
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| Did the edge turn cold 'cause the message was so close?
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| Oh, did you chock it? |
| Oh, can I know?
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| I know where this is going because we always blow it
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| Only way our lives open wide and have a shade, it’s just that way
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| Flow down that rive, freezing time, fully wide, just throw the waste
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| That’s where the spirit waste
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| Only way our lives, your eyes on fire, mind your flame
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| We won’t be dismayed
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| When the sun is out and you’re screaming by
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| I swear that if I had my way
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| You know I would’ve blessed it |