| Towards the limit of maps
|
| The roads surrender to empty spaces
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| The roofline seems to collapse into the evening
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| I was asleep on the passenger’s side
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| White as a ghost against a floodlit billboard
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| Day casts different light upon those promises
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| But you know it’s true
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| If you lived here, you’d be home now
|
| And yet don’t forget
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| If you lived here, you’d be home now
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| Even the stereo sounds tired
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| Here where the power poles look more like robot skeletons
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| Slack-wired against the evening
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| Let’s just drive until we’ve found somewhere
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| There are more headstones in the cemetery
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| Than houses in the town
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| And never leave
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| 'Cause you know it’s true
|
| If you lived here, you’d be home now
|
| And yet don’t forget
|
| If you lived here, you’d be home now
|
| Tonight the cul-de-sacs are quiet
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| The driveways don’t lead anywhere
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| There’s no-one else awake
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| We could trust our deepest secrets
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| To the artificial lake
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| We’re in no hurry anyway
|
| We both could use the break |