| I want to take a break from heartache
|
| Drive away from all the tears I’ve cried
|
| I’m a wasteland down inside
|
| In the crawlspace under heaven
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| In the landscape of a wounded heart
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| I don’t know where to start
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| But the wild geese of Mary
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| Pierce the darkness with a song
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| And a light I’ve been running from
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| And running for so long
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| As their feathers spin their stories
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| I can still cling to my fears
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| Or I can run but they come along
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| And we both disappear just like all
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| All these broken angels
|
| All these tattered wings
|
| All these things come alive in me
|
| An empty frame against the madness
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| Like the fence line holds the fog at bay
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| It’s gonna roll in anyway
|
| Draw the curtain across heaven
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| Cut the sky, a cold coyote moon
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| Kills the season off too soon
|
| Are they sparks or are they embers?
|
| Fireflies or falling stars?
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| Are they fireworks that backfired?
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| Will they leave a scar?
|
| Are they evening murmurations
|
| That make me wish that I could fly?
|
| Or are they just trespassing satellites
|
| Intersecting my night sky just like all?
|
| All these broken angels
|
| All these tattered wings
|
| All these things come alive in me
|
| All these broken
|
| All these broken angels
|
| All these scary things
|
| All these dreams are alive in me
|
| Are they sparks or are they embers?
|
| Fireflies or falling stars?
|
| Are they fireworks that backfired?
|
| Will they leave a scar?
|
| Are they evening murmurations
|
| That make me wish that I could fly?
|
| Or are they just trespassing satellites
|
| Intersecting my night sky just like all?
|
| All these broken angels
|
| All these tattered wings
|
| All these things come alive in me
|
| All these broken
|
| All these broken angels
|
| All these scary things
|
| All these dreams are alive in me
|
| All these broken
|
| All these broken angels |