| Strung out in Ypsilanti
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| I lost about a year ago
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| The wind it was leaning
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| on a freight train screaming
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| in the twilight through the valley below
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| You were moving slow
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| Lying on the bedroom floor
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| Looked in your eyes and tethered
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| above our heads out hands together
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| But your eyes were somewhere else out the door
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| Outside the world was tender as a sponge
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| We watched the glaciers melt and the stock-market plunge
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| I don’t case if it’s true, my mind is wasted on you
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| What’s the worst that I can do
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| Can’t hurt myself if I can’t hurt you
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| Am I better or getting sick
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| Run from myself to get away with it
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| I saw some people standing over a hill
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| Long black veils hammering down the nails
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| Wanna see somebody hurt you, know the way I do
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| But nothing seems to change the way I feel about you
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| I see some some stray dogs playing by the funeral pier
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| Leaves of ash are falling on my window by the fire
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| And I can’t see through, my mind is wasted on you
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| Pedal steel ringing my head
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| wondering if you’re sleeping in somebody’s bed
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| I don’t care if it’s true, my mind’s wasted on you
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| Been living in my rear-view mirror
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| It’s coming down and I’m trying to see clear
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| I can’t see through, my mind is wasted on you. |