| Oh meet me when the morning fails on the fields of desire
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| Oh meet me when I lost my part in the choir of dusk
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| Where the promise to lead what is right
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| As we both know how fields will turn white
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| And know I will never speak of days cause I know you won’t count them
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| No we have never grown a day from the poison we shared
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| And we’re walking our crooked backs home
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| But will we ever confess what we’ve done?
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| Guess we’re still kids on the run
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| And no we will never be a part of the pictures once taken
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| When we’re feeding fire with the flames till no memories gone
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| And the cold sky will write us a song
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| But will we ever confess what we’ve done?
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| Guess we’re still kids on the run
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| And the reflections in their eyes
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| Sure could paint us as killers
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| Oh, I’ll be there
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| And til the terror of our time
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| Could forgive us as lovers
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| Oh, lets break some hearts
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| And no I will never speak of ways cause I know you won’t try them
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| But all the weapons raining from the sky will be ours to embrace
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| And the cold sky will write us a song
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| But will we ever confess what we’ve done
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| Guess we’re still kids on the run |