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| You wanna be Beneath the summer sky on summer’s eve
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| Before too soon the day will come
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| Before too long you’ll walk in the sun
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| Where the olive branches bend like fingertips
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| And pollen fills the air and bluevine honey drips
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| Just one breath away from being home
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| Deep in the avalanche of hope and disbelief
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| Even your good friends may surprise you when they leave
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| There are no leaders that could navigate these walls
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| No amount of sugar can satisfy it all
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| But you can trust them all but be sure you cut the cards
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| Stay wide awake and snake across the boulevard
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| Just one breath away from being
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| Home
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| You wanna be Beneath the southern sky on summer’s eve
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| Looking through these graves of wasted love
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| Washed on these river banks, spit out from the flood
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| It could feel like more than one thousand needle tips, all pointed up Your punishment demands you stitch all your own cuts
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| Just one breath away from being home
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| Fear no gallows
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| Fear no axe
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| Fear no names
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| 'Cause they don’t make statues
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| For their kinds anyway
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| Take a photograph as every moment comes
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| Soon all these memories will be compressed to one
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| Just one breath away from being home
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| You wanna be Beneath the southern sky on summer’s eve
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| For too soon the day will come
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| Before too long you’ll walk in the sun
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| Home
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| Home
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| Home
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| Home |