| He was brought up in a house of women
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| In a city of heat that gave it’s children
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| Faith in the fable of coral and fish
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| Told them the world was something to miss
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| I turn to hold you, you’re gone
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| Fingers let go, I’m gone
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| That’s just a little unkind
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| And just a little unwise
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| That’s just a little unkind
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| And just a little unwise
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| The salt in the wind moves over the mudflats
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| Sticks to your skin and rusts up the lights
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| Blows through the ferns that breathe in the dark
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| I try to forget but it’s so hard
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| I turn to hold you, you’re gone
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| Fingers let go, I’m gone
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| That’s just a little unkind
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| And just a little unwise
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| That’s just a little unkind
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| And just a little unwise
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| What was once is a falling star;
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| It’ll hit you and hurt you and open your heart
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| Burn in a river tangled with reeds
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| While a crane on the water silently feeds
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| I turn to hold you, you’re gone
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| Fingers let go, I’m gone
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| That’s just a little unkind
|
| And just a little unwise
|
| That’s just a little unkind
|
| And just a little unwise
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| (repeat till cicadas join in the fun) |