| The night is like a black stone
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| But it ripples in the wind
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| And you are shaking like a new slave
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| In an ultraviolet sun
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| Shiver at the night sky
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| From the ribbon of the road:
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| Hollow little diamonds
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| All embedded in the null
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| Head like a blank screen
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| A body alive
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| You are living in the last rays
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| Kicking up the nights
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| Oh, little stars…
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| In the center of the sun, in the stain leaking out into the light
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| In the calling of the gulls, in the river running out into the night
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| Some people run from themselves
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| Some chain the dogs to the gate
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| Some are living a lie
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| Daddy’s on the next plane
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| And he’s looking to survive
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| He is soaking from a long run
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| He is fingering a knife
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| Summoning a white lie
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| From the fingers to the mind
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| You were watching the horizon
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| But it was in you all the time
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| Like a worm in the bloodline
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| Like an urge wants release
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| But you roll away the sun
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| Throw it back into the east
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| Falling lights on the miracles of a golden age
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| Blackened sounds of the millions in the streets today
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| Where some people turn on themselves
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| Some hang around for an age
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| Some get paralyzed
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| In the calling of the gulls, in the river running out into the night
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| Like a burning in the air, doesn’t think about your money or your life
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| In the center of the sun, in the hole in the belly of the light
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| In the shudder of the hull, in the river running out into the tide
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| I’m taking everything back:
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| When I led you down to the lake
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| It was the thrill of my life |