| Now that the furniture’s returning to its Goodwill home
|
| With dishes in last week’s papers, rumours and elections, crosswords,
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| an unending war
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| That blacken our fingers, smear their prints on every door pulled shut
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| Now that the last month’s rent is scheming with the damage deposit
|
| Take this moment to decide (Sun in an empty room)
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| If we meant it, if we tried (Sun in an empty room)
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| Or felt around for far too much (Sun in an empty room)
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| From things that accidentally touch (Sun in an empty room)
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| Hands that we nearly hold with pennies for the GST
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| The shoulders we lean our shoulders into on the subway, mutter an apology
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| The shins that we kick beneath the table, that reflexive cry
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| The faces we meet, one awkward beat too long, and terrify
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| Know that the things we need to say (Sun in an empty room)
|
| Have been said already anyway (Sun in an empty room)
|
| By parallelograms of light (Sun in an empty room)
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| On walls that we repainted white (Sun in an empty room)
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| Sun in an empty room
|
| Take eight minutes and divide (Sun in an empty room)
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| By ninety million lonely miles (Sun in an empty room)
|
| And watch the shadow cross the floor (Sun in an empty room)
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| We don’t live here anymore (Sun in an empty room) |