| Got a window washer’s head
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| For an unmakeable bed
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| For loneliness
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| The past is no place to-
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| Rest your weary arms 'cept at sevens at your sides
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| Your face a campaign debt reflected sky
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| You die to your fans one window at a time, that’s right
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| Got a window washer’s eye
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| For an untuckable sky
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| For lonely design
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| The past is no place to-
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| Try but I’ll get my mind’s armies moving at full stride
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| They’re singing in one voice, preoccupied
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| And with nothing to say I’ll sing it bright, that’s right
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| I am here, it’s only me
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| I ain’t freed nobody yet
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| It’s just me, I’ll just be a sec
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| I’m a cleaner, I’m no threat
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| No threat, no threat
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| I’m a reader, I’m no threat
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| Who sings lonely? |
| Everyone sings lonely
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| It doesn’t sound so bad
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| Who is free? |
| Everybody’s freed
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| From the tired of being sad, so sad
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| How will I know? |
| How will I know if I’m helping?
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| More so, how will she know if I’m helping?
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| If I’m not in the saddle, I’m nothing, that’s right
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| I am here, it’s only me
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| I ain’t freed nobody yet
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| It’s just me, clearing spider webs
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| I’m a listener, I’m no threat
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| I am here, failed and failing breath
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| I’m a listener, I’m no threat
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| No threat, no threat
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| I’m a watcher, I’m no threat
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| No threat
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| (I am a Beatles fan) |