| Cave-o-sapien —
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| You were made for breaking of my back.
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| As I carried you past quiet houses,
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| Kicking through the roses in the yard, I spied
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| The wildflower kisses on your neck — saw the garden
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| Had been trampled past repair.
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| Oh, Cave-o-sapien.
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| You look like the sunrise!
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| — purple, lemon, baby-blue and gold —
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| But I knew it sounded bad when you said NO REGRETS
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| And then said nothing more.
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| And while you’re leaning deep into the smoke
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| Of those sticks
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| You keep rubbing together,
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| I keep thinking about how bad it’s gonna burn,
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| And all the people I loved, back home,
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| Who I loved, and love,
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| That you turned on.
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| People just offering shelter from the wind.
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| So bow your head into the wind,
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| My Cave-o-sapien.
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| I had a vision of a gorilla,
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| And he was a killer,
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| A killer!
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| Alone,
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| In fields of stone,
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| You’re not the sunrise,
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| You’re just alone.
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| But I’ve got you, until you’re gone |