| A pillow lays on cold cement
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| A blanket by a broken vent
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| She’s there a while
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| And then she’s gone
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| I’m away for weeks
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| Arrive at night
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| She hears my steps
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| Turns off the light and runs
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| No mind at all, more space than I need
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| It’s just me among the weeds
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| Among the ghosts
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| Among the leaves
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| We’ve never met but she’s a girl
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| Romance paper books
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| The floor is covered
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| In long blonde curls
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| On afternoons I walk the graves
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| The rusted cars, the mine shaft caves
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| See a girl sadly unkempt
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| A child of neglect
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| Under moons I pass the tombs
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| Cross the highways, smell the fumes
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| See a girl frighteningly gaunt
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| Somebody didn’t want
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| How do I tell her I don’t care
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| If she sleeps downstairs?
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| I see her on my errand runs
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| Looking nervous like a young Mia Farrow
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| Walk along the gas stops
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| Window browsing pawn shops
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| Guns, bows and arrows
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| Up on past the Halfway house
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| Past the signs Eighty South
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| Buttercup and Carrows
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| Drinking Wild Irish Rose
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| At the dead end of the road
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| Sleeping with the sparrows
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| When evening comes I play guitar
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| For the planets and the stars
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| I leave the porch light on Like I do when I’m gone
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| Winter, spring, summer, fall
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| Basement’s yours, have a ball
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| There’s always room for you there
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| Really baby I don’t care |