| Laura, my dear, I watch you sway in the wind
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| As another gray year in suburbia ends
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| But you are still here, tired of making amends
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| Bored, you flip through past messages sent
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| Why don’t we play your old favorite game?
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| Count the dark clouds and drive through the rain
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| Are we just waking up ghosts?
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| Hold the wheel though the road is unstable
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| I close my eyes ‘cause I know that you’re able
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| Now you whisper, ‘I'm home'
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| And you’re counting the lines as they go
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| In the headlights, in the cold
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| Laura, my dear, a phone plays that «Sugar Town» song
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| At the end of the pier, where the slot machines rang
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| Fifteen years back when we stole your dad’s gun
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| Shooting at cans in the afternoon sun
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| As the sirens approached, we decided to run
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| To hide in the trees, but the damage was done
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| But you were telling me jokes
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| Hold the wheel though the road is unstable
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| I close my eyes ‘cause I know that you’re able
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| Now you whisper, ‘I'm home'
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| And you’re counting the lines as they go
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| In the headlights, in the cold
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| You keep counting the stripes on the road
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| All whispers are told, and you’re hiding your hands from the cold
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| Little princess, we’ve grown old |