| In the fields where we laid our heads
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| Dog barking to the heat of the beating sun
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| Hot ground, sweet ground a feeling of fever in the air
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| Kissing the nape of your neck, sighing colors
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| Breaking sticks into heartsick flaming words
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| In the fields making love
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| The luck of the Irish tucked between your toes
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| Love’s debt pays regret, in months I begin to show
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| Dressing as a car drives by gasping buzzards
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| Turning time into a lover’s rhyme
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| Pressed between the pages of my heart
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| In the fields where are you?
|
| Are you hiding yourself there still?
|
| Oh in the fields where are you?
|
| Are you hiding yourself in a city of weeds?
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| Are you hiding yourself in a city of glass?
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| In a city of glass
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| In the fields tripping on
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| Pushing through the barbs to reach the greener side
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| It was years ago we let each other go
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| To follow the paths of our dreams
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| Sometimes I carry the memory, full time
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| Delivering the spitting image of you
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| Eyes burn and I live at peace
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| I did what I had to do and you, and you, and you
|
| Oh in the fields where are you?
|
| Are you hiding yourself there still?
|
| Oh now in the fields where are you?
|
| Are you hiding yourself in a city of weeds?
|
| Are you hiding yourself in a city of glass?
|
| In the fields where are you?
|
| Are you hiding yourself there still?
|
| Oh in the fields where are you?
|
| Are you hiding yourself in a city of weeds?
|
| Are you hiding yourself in a city of glass?
|
| In a city of glass
|
| Time waits for no one
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| And I’ve lost track of you |