| Age 39, looking over from my hotel window
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| Blue dots and red dots skating away in the park
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| I used to be there twenty years ago
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| Huffing over a mug hot chocolate drink
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| Age 39, looking over from my hotel wind
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| Wondering if one should jump off or go to sleep
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| People tell you up is better than down
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| But they never tell you which is up and which is down
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| Age 39, looking over from my hotel wind
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| 95 pound bundle but it’s trouble when there’s nowhere to leave
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| People say stardust and golddust are it
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| But they never tell you it chokes you just as sawdust do
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| Age 39, feeling pretty suicidal
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| The weight gets heavier when you’ve bled thirty years
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| Show me your blood, john, and i’ll show you mine
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| They say it’s running even when you’re asleep
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| No trace of resentment, no trace of regrets
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| One blood’s thinner but both look red and fresh
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| If i ever die, please go to my daughter
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| And tell her that she used to haunt me in my dreams
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| (that's saying a lot for a neurotic like me.)
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| Age 39, looking over from my hotel window
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| Trying to tackle away with heart of clay
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| The weight gets lighter when there’s nowhere to turn
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| God’s little dandruff floating in the air
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| Age 39, looking over the world
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| Age 39, floating over the world
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| Age 39,…mm-mm…floating along |