| Everyone’s on a long walk
|
| Ten huttin', ten cuppin'
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| The same streets
|
| She’s the kind that paces a room, stares at the gloom with a globe in her hand
|
| now
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| And a treaty I made, in a hot house
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| Nowhere near mountains, finally fixing your car
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| If I could find a better way to issue you a grape I would
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| Maybe a nice restaurant
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| Wash those dishes man
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| Is this the life you set out for yourself in your younger days
|
| Well I might as well stand at attention
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| Clouds in remission above Haller Lake
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| Well call me up with a truth
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| Yeah, what are you supposed to do
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| Maybe the keys that you got are for a broken lock
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| In the moon
|
| That could be true (too)
|
| So send me a daily evening call
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| But too much is falling in the things we’ve done
|
| So send me away in this evening sun
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| On a boat of my branches
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| In the world’s dark hum
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| Always in a state of my mind
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| She’s found her purse by the building side
|
| But to tell you the truth
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| Every swoon, every bird, every cliff
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| Is just out of focus
|
| But c’mon, see I lost my hand in a wave
|
| And I, I’ve never given up on outer space
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| To weaken the blow
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| I moved my camp north
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| Buffoons before tombs
|
| Yeah behind those stones I found my place
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| So send me away in the evening sun
|
| But too much is falling in the things we’ve done
|
| Send me a way in this evening sun
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| On a boat of my branches waving you right home |