| So in line with everything
|
| We hold each other’s hands and we sing
|
| We shake all the leaves that haunt all of the trees
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| There are feet beneath the knees
|
| We’re keeping the dust in the corner in case
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| It might contain a piece of your face
|
| A piece of myself and all that we’ve done
|
| A piece of myself in the setting sun
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| Leave it to the witches
|
| Leave it to the queens
|
| Leave it to the girls who win at everything
|
| Let’s leave it and do our own thing
|
| Leave it for the rich kids
|
| Leave it for the thieves
|
| We don’t want to have to specialize in things so we hold each other’s hands and
|
| sing
|
| We dance with the dust that haunts all of us
|
| Exposing our weaknesses to rust
|
| Sun shine down upon your face
|
| Columns of a dusty haze
|
| I’m leaving you my books and my pens
|
| The clues to where the stories end
|
| Pictures in a box up on a shelf, relics of a vibrant self
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| Leave it to our sisters
|
| Leave it in between
|
| Leave a piece of you and I everywhere we’ve been
|
| Let’s leave it and do our own thing
|
| Leave it in the gardens
|
| Leave it in the trees
|
| Leave it on the canvases and on the leaves, the heart and how it feels the sting
|
| Leave it to the witches
|
| Leave it to the queens
|
| Leave it to the girls who win at everything
|
| Let’s leave it and do our own thing
|
| Leave it for the rich kids
|
| Leave it for the thieves
|
| We don’t want to have to specialize in things so we hold each other’s hands and
|
| sing |