Lost track of time again
i hear your padded steps outside my door
i know this dream is on its way
i pull the covers tight, i shut my eyes and to god i start to pray
that this is only in my mind
you say “it's our little secret and i know that you'll keep it
if you speak it you'll surely...
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Slipping between the cracks
gasoline alley, dressed in petrol blue
skipsy's head-ing pavements, he's nothing else to do
the jacks got a tattoo of a burning joan of ark
a nightingale is crying in the dark
the busker's ed a concert singing soft and slow
the breathings hanging heavy in halfway...
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