| Summer came and I lost my shoes
|
| while them purple gold linens, pressed them down in the basement
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| and if don’t you know or see them clouds
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| Will step to the sky and wind… down
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| tell me what you know tell me what we get tell
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| me where we go then tell me when you come back around
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| Shelter never pays without months without
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| rain after winter leaves we’ll just do it again
|
| Calm will find your soul
|
| those tired lonely lips dragged him down to the train tracks
|
| left them purple gold lids sittin down in the basement
|
| and if we die here will we ever be back again?
|
| Dawn was likely lined in the coming of men that shuffled slithered
|
| legs till they found how to stand every time I grow I know I’ll never change
|
| because the liver tree sways, but knows he’ll never find me
|
| I know my problems and know where they lay
|
| Dawn was likely lined in the coming of men
|
| that shuffled slithered
|
| legs till they found how to stand
|
| my brothers busy laughing at the end of the
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| hall, said «That mans not
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| a doctor if he cures no cancer»
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| placed in the back where there are no dancers
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| crooked steps diamonds
|
| and a bag housing answers
|
| where I step to sky and wind… down
|
| Calm will find your soul
|
| those tired lonely lips dragged him down to the train tracks
|
| and if we die here will we ever be back again?
|
| Dawn was likely lined in the coming of men
|
| that shuffled slithered legs till they found how to stand |