| Radio’s droning
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| Dulled out by the intercom on fire
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| Guiding the evening’s choreography
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| And Katie has her hand in a young man’s chest
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| Stain on her white shoes that won’t wash out
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| So usual, not the last pair this year
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| Down the hallway, cries rise and fall
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| In between the nearly constant sirens
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| Someone turns on the news like we need it
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| It’s just another white man with a grudge
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| The break room sits empty
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| Just like our hearts been draining in the waiting room
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| You think of your daughter at her wedding
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| You know life isn’t long enough
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| Your shirt’s speckled red
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| You’re holding onto a young girl’s hand
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| So frail and cold, so casual
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| Not even the last one today
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| I wish for the fingers to count or the
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| Memory to remember each new city
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| But I lost track so long ago
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| I think it was around 260
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| They’re praying for you, you, for you
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| They’re praying for you, they’re praying for you
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| For you, for you, for you
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| They’re praying for you, they’re praying for you
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| They’re praying for you, I said, «They're praying for you»
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| Isn’t that good enough? |