| Your grand dad left home for the circus
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| He was young just like me,
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| with hope to explore
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| He married a girl in Virginia
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| She could swing the trapeze,
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| they could sleep on the floor
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| Your mother was born in December,
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| on the one sunny day that winter gave up With warm summer eyes that flickered like fireflies,
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| and she stared at the world
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| So why do you leave these stories unfinished,
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| my Cheshire cat doorstop with tears in your eyes?
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| And why do you look when you’ve already found it?
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| And what did you find that would leave you walking by?
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| She was raised in a New England village
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| Then she moved to LA with her firefly stare,
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| and you loved sunset strip when it sparkled
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| You grew up and you sparkled, but why don’t you care?
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| And why do you leave these stories unfinished,
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| my Cheshire cat doorstop with tears in your eyes?
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| And why do you look when you’ve already found me?
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| And what did you find that would leave you walking by?
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| And these nights I get high just from breathing
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| When I lie here with you I’m sure that I’m real
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| like that firework over the freeway
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| I could stay here all day but that’s not how you feel
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| So why do you leave these questions unanswered?
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| The circus awaits and you’re already gone
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| My Cheshire cat doorstop with fear in your smile,
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| what makes it so easy for you to be walking by?
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| And what did I do that you can’t seem to want me?
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| And why do we lie here and whisper goodbyes?
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| Where can I go that your pictures won’t haunt me?
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| What makes it so easy for you to be walking by?
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| Walking by |