| There’s a black moon over the sky today, it’s crawling across the roof
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| It’s taking its hold on the trees and then dangling at the roots
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| Well in every town that it’s the waking hour, senses play the fool
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| So I stay awake waiting for your arrival, I’m howling at the moon
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| I let the rain you’ll play in the kitchen, when I leave for work
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| Then you won’t mistake the empty house that I left for ruin, or worse
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| I’ll get home at six, tired in the evening, to find there’s no-one there
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| So I stay awake, ponder her leaving, and the final words she said
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| «You got your head up in the clouds», she said
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| «Got your two feet above the ground», she said
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| And now I am waiting for her to come back, waiting for her to see
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| What she left inside of my hands
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| And there’s a black moon over the sky today, it’s crawling across the roof
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| It’s taking its hold on the trees and then dangling at the roots
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| And I see myself through a rainy filter where no-one is overexposed
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| And I look at myself through a different framerate where no-one dares to go
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| «You got your head up in the clouds», she said
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| «Got your two feet above the ground», she said
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| And now I am waiting for her to come back, waiting for her to see
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| What she left inside of my hands |