| Is it the list and the sway, is it the roll and the pitch
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| The drunken Gulf of Mexico or the 7 year itch
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| I hear the mating calls of fireflies, some celestial blues
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| And they’re bringing me around again and that’s something I can use
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| Now I see nothing but the water and it’s falling from my face
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| It is the face (it is the face), it is the face (it is the face)
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| I wanna show you
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| Will I remember to remember that without you I’m a shadow
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| Of a drifter and a barfly and whatever else you had to be
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| It’s true I’ve come around, now I can even touch my toes
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| And all the running and the talking, yeah, now everybody knows
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| You never speak but I can hear you as you sing out
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| From your mismatched eyes
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| They are the eyes (they are the eyes)
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| They are the eyes, I will to die with
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| We’re on a boat out on the ocean and there’s nothing more to share
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| We’ve gone from one wave to another and back again to where
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| We go when guitars are hungover and the songs are fast asleep
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| I feel the flesh wounds in my heart but they are mine for me to keep
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| In your pocket or your fist or in your mind but they come to you
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| By your ears, they are the ears (they are the ears), they are the ears
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| That I will sing to |