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posted on:2010 years
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duration:04:38
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Red letters on the dashboard, oh what a gift
They pursue us to the deep end and then depart
Watch as the cracks in the wall feel pain
For only patterns on a snake s back give us genuine fear
And I cannot lie, faces drop into the fire
I get by all the time on a shelf above the door
And it shouldn t be clear but it s not for me to decide
It s a delicate degree
It s a number I can see
Could prison cells be in my brain
For they re safe inside the cover of a dirty face
And everybody finds a college graduate with joy
While I m happy just sipping tonic water with lemon and lime
And I cannot lie, faces drop into the fire
I get by all the time on a shelf above the door
And it shouldn t be clear but it s not for me to decide
It s a delicate degree
It s a number I can see
You sit at home up late at night
When it s beginning to arrive
And honestly
I don t see the need