| In the darkest of nights,
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| The city of lights
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| Will pour unto us.
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| Creeping inside
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| Through our sleepy eyes,
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| Contagiously bright
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| Like sunlight and rain
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| Flooding through the veins
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| Of wilted vines.
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| But love travels like a rumor here,
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| Losing form with every ear,
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| A skeleton of something more.
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| But waking seems an awful dream.
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| We’ll be waiting for the night,
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| Waiting for the night
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| To come and rescue us,
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| Feet off the ground.
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| Beaides, we’re living in this house of cards
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| That pulls and pushes with the air.
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| Fearing a feather to the earth
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| Could destroy it and us,
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| Inside unaware!
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| All we want is something more
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| To dream about and to adore.
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| All we need is a little place
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| To close our eyes, to end this chase.
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| The living are moving,
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| Gracefully
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| And painfully rushing ahead,
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| While unraveling the most essential thread
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| Of the fabric that covers us.
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| We’ll be waiting for the night,
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| Waiting for the night
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| To always come and rescue us,
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| Feet off the ground,
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| Our hearts become magnetized.
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| The warmth of the sun
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| Is melting the snowflakes
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| Before they hit the ground |