| In the ulcerating silence perspective comes
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| The way it always does for it’s ransom
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| So randomly somebody calls
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| The phone rings and it brings Niagara Falls
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| At three o’clock in the morning
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| «You'd better be dying» and you were
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| So we talked about time and where it went
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| Unremarkable events
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| And how one day took two days and they got spent
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| How you’d continue, carefully, in degrees
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| Trying to do one true beautiful thing
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| And your beautiful thing
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| It’d be
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| A beautiful thing
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| To see
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| That beautiful thing
|
| Continuing
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| «I don’t live there, I just commute»
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| Secretly cradling a joint and I might puke
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| A fumble with the keys under duress
|
| The point is this is practise duress
|
| At three o’clock in the morning
|
| «You'd better be dying» and you were
|
| So we talked about things and where they went
|
| Big remarkable events
|
| And how each day’s a new day and they get spent
|
| How you’d continue, artfully, like the breeze
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| Trying to do one true beautiful thing
|
| And your beautiful thing
|
| It’d be
|
| A beautiful thing
|
| To see
|
| That beautiful thing
|
| Continuing
|
| Your beautiful thing
|
| Continuing
|
| And your beautiful thing
|
| Will be
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| A beautiful thing
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| To me
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| A beautiful thing
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| Continuing
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| Your beautiful thing
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| Continuing |