| There are those boys with earthly eyes
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| Their eyes are like the ground
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| You walk and walk
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| Kicking up dirt
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| But they don’t make a sound
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| And when they kiss you, they sometimes leave 'em open
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| Just to make sure you don’t drown
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| Yeah, the sweetest eyes
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| The truest eyes are
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| Probably dark brown
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| There are those boys with golden hazel eyes
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| The color of weak tea
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| They spend their nights howlin' at the moon
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| To let go of the sea
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| The scope of their depth is terrifying, thrilling
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| You think you’re finally free
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| When they capture you
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| 'Cause golden eyes are as sticky as
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| Honey from a bee
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| I’m drownin'
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| But those with blue
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| I shouldn’t trust
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| 'Cause I myself have blue
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| You fall for them so easy
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| You think you see right through
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| You take a leap, thinking blue water is deep
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| When suddenly it’s just grey rain
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| Then puddles at your feet
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| They freeze to dirty ice
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| But somehow they’ll melt back to clean blue water once again
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| Confusing
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| Blue eyes, they change like the weather
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| Blue sea, blue sky, blue pain
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| I wouldn’t trust my own blue-eyed reflection
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| As far as I can throw that mirror
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| Bum bum bum
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| But these are just silly eye color generalizations
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| You shouldn’t believe a word I’ve said
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| 'Cause when you’re lying in your bed
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| Darkness 'round your head
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| Your eyes might as well be polka-dotted or plaid
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| Polka-dotted
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| Or
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| Plaid |