| I am eating hash browns in the snow white diner
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| Outside cars are honking, flashing lights on the bridge
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| They’re pulling a car up from the bottom of the frozen lake
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| A woman drove her Saturn into the black water
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| Killed herself and her two kids trapped in the backseat
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| She’d lost her job and didn’t want her kids to be poor
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| The diner is noisy, black coffee and sugar
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| Baskets of dinner rolls, outside the crowd is growing
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| Waiting by the drawbridge, hoping to see the dead woman’s face
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| In the booth next to me there are two old women
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| Eating liver and onions and they’re laughing too loud
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| And banging the tabletop, but then I see that they’re deaf
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| I don’t know why they’re laughing, maybe the world’s much nicer
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| If you can’t hear the cars
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| They make me feel better like I’m drunk on a plane
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| And have forgotten that I’m afraid to fly |