| I am made of tons of tiny countries
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| With closely guarded borders
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| Each country has a castle
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| Each castle has a throne
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| You are the tiny king
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| Of your very own
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| I sneak across at night
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| When the crossing is easy
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| I watch and I wonder
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| At your curious customs
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| But I forget them all by day
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| Did the night invade the day?
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| Or was it day invaded night?
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| Were you among the last to be found?
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| Did you have your hands
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| In the ground?
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| I buried the dead and they came stories
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| I planted the stories, they came up singing
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| I planted the song and it came up dancing
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| I buried the dance and it
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| Came up facing home
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| I buried the dead and they came laughing
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| I planted the laugher, it came up singing
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| I planted the song and it came up fighting
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| I buried the battle, it came up facing home
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| I buried the dead and they came up laughing
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| I buried the laughter and cried
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| This garden we’ve planted will come up around us
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| And take us all down in a great big avalanche
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| Of useless things, of persistently plastic things
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| Of things that cost us this tiny world of tiny kings |