| Two weeks later like a surplus reprieve
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| I found a hair the length of yours on my sleeve
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| I wound it round and round my finger so tight
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| It turned to purple and a pulse for an insight
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| And I knew the the beat 'cause it matched your own beat
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| I still remember it from our chest to chest and feet to feet
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| The easy silence then was a sweet relief to this hush
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| of ovens, aeroplanes and of distant car horns
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| A fire, a fire
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| You can only take what you can carry
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| A pulse, your pulse
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| It’s the only thing I can remember
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| I break, you don’t
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| I was always set to self-destruct, oh The fire, the fire
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| It cracks and barks like primal music
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| I said I knew the beat 'cause it matched your own beat
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| It’s become my engine, my own source of heat
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| The sea between us only amplifies the sound waves
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| Every hum and echo and crash beats my cave |