| You used to be scared of the water
|
| You’re safe by the side of your father
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| Your sense of the world lay
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| In your little home by the harbor
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| You’ve always felt small in the city
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| I think that last fall you were with me
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| And all of your old clothes
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| Are still in the hall of my building
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| You never asked once
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| No, you never asked why
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| If I was putting things off
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| If I was drinking too much of that red wine
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| Oh, you’d wear yourself thin
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| And accept every sin
|
| And if I glued myself shut
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| You would find your way in
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| We gambled our souls to the summer
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| We rattled our bones to the thunder
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| We watched every sunset
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| Until we got sick of each other
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| You’ve always said fall was your season
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| That everyone’s here for a reason
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| I stare at your packed bags
|
| And ask what the hell you were meaning
|
| You never asked once
|
| No, you never asked why
|
| If I was putting things off
|
| If I was drinking too much of that red wine
|
| Oh, you’d wear yourself thin
|
| And accept every sin
|
| And if I glued myself shut
|
| You would find your way in
|
| It only feels real after raining
|
| And hearts only heal after breaking
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| I stare at the tree line
|
| And noticed the leaves aren’t changing
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| And does the wind blow in Cape Elizabeth?
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| Constant and cold, how do you live with this?
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| Love was a deadline
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| Spend the rest of my life fuckin' missing it
|
| You never asked once
|
| No, you never asked why
|
| If I was putting things off
|
| If I was drinking too much of that red wine
|
| Oh, you’d wear yourself thin
|
| And accept every sin
|
| And if I glued myself shut
|
| You would find your way in |