| I’ve been hanging out with the rejects in the attic
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| Can’t get out of my head the way you left
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| I got a sense of belonging but what does it matter
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| The winter’s on its way here to collect
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| The colors we thought were ours to protect
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| I was born on the outskirts of a dream
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| My daddy was a miner of almost anything
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| And I’ve been busting stones
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| Too proud to go back home
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| Admit that all my digging was in vain
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| But don’t we talk different than we did?
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| Am I more quiet than I’ve been?
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| Don’t you look brighter than the moon?
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| Don’t I look different without you?
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| Don’t I look different without you?
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| I’m taking rain like an Appaloosa hoofprint
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| And you know I’m drinking sunlight all day long
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| I’m opened up just like a dogwood flower
|
| And winter’s on its way here to collect
|
| But don’t we talk different than we did?
|
| Am I more quiet than I’ve been?
|
| And don’t you look brighter than the moon?
|
| Don’t I look different without you?
|
| Don’t I look different without you?
|
| I was taken on the outskirts of a dream
|
| I had a been a miner of almost everything
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| Well I stopped busting stones
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| I’ll have to go back home
|
| Admit that all my digging was in vain
|
| But don’t we talk different than we did?
|
| Am I more quiet than I’ve been?
|
| And don’t you look brighter than the moon?
|
| Don’t I look different without you?
|
| Don’t I look different?
|
| Winter’s on its way here to collect
|
| Don’t I look? |
| Don’t I look?
|
| Winter’s on its way here to collect
|
| Don’t I look? |
| Don’t I look?
|
| Winter’s on its way here to collect
|
| Don’t I look? |
| Don’t I look?
|
| Winter’s on its way here to collect
|
| Don’t I look? |
| Don’t I look?
|
| Winter’s on its way here without you
|
| Winter’s on its way here without you |