| Breathing in transmissions, I’ve got wax paper eyes.
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| Well, it’s perfect outside.
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| And traveling through shapes in leafy forests of sound--
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| Would you show me around?
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| Goodness, gracious, put us on our way.
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| We were long lost and searching every day.
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| The gasoline farms where I lost my frames,
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| where the colors were painted by the length of the wave.
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| And everyone was happy when the light had run.
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| We were pretty for a while,
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| we were staring at the sun.
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| We waited around for the disorder to be done,
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| but we were better off, and we were happy.
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| No one wears their glasses anymore.
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| When we’re blurs we care about the bigger picture.
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| Smoke bombs rise into my eyes.
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| They say, «Don't worry about the details,
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| 'cause who can see the details?»
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| Goodness, gracious, put us on our way.
|
| We were long lost and searching everyday.
|
| The gasoline farms where I lost my frames,
|
| where the colors were painted by the length of the wave.
|
| And everyone was happy when the light had run.
|
| We were pretty for a while,
|
| we we’re staring at the sun.
|
| We waited around for the disorder to be done,
|
| but we were better off and we were happy. |