| Moments you think that you know things
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| Are usually followed by moments
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| That prove you were wrong
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| Like earlier I witnessed it snowing
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| Only to come back out to find just water
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| Soaking in the ground
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| Move over, head that tops off my body
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| Move closer, hips that brush on my side
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| Move over, phrases that used to bring legs down
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| Swinging arms, static mouth
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| Times I finally let my legs start running
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| It seems the people around me
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| Start dropping like flies
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| And there wasn’t any signs of them slowing
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| It’s just that breathing gets harder
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| With passage of time
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| Move over, head that tops off my body
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| Move closer, hips that brush on my side
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| Move over, phrases that used to bring legs down
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| Swinging arms, static mouth
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| The daisies below are changing to stones
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| Their petals have flown
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| Further westward to decompose
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| Or so goes the cycle
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| Move over, move closer, move over, move closer
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| To me |