| It’s all clear expensive drinks and shiny shirts
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| And the click of heels as they descend from the taxi
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| Like the first foot on the moon, oh, and it glows with ache
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| And if it hits me right it’s almost too much to take
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| And it’s got right angle laser razor thin lines
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| That curve and swerve like perfect sines
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| As we dress to the nines in an attempt to leave it all behind
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| In a search of the moment between the seconds where
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| Everything is just fine
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| That silver thread embedded deep within our spines
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| And I used to be kind of weird about this
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| A fear of dependence on a guilty gilt-edged
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| Hedged transcendence that makes us liars
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| And tense the fear of looking down and seeing
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| That nothing really suspends us
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| But it was never just another Saturday night
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| Not with you in attendance
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| So put your hands in the air
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| And wave them like you just don’t care
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| It’s on a whim; |
| it’s on a dare
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| To shrug away what we can’t bear
|
| And we’re going back and forth and back and forth
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| And back and forth and back
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| We’re going back and forth and back and forth
|
| And back and forth and back
|
| So it’s a deep blue see-through membrane that protects us
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| It connects us, a pulsing cellophane
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| Party-train skein that helps us and
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| Envelopes and keeps us locked inside
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| Forever and ever along for the ride
|
| And we’re moving through a phosphorescent gel
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| A semi-solid self-lit ocean and it’s a funny notion, isn’t it?
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| Yeah, but I’m kinda digging it
|
| And it’s rigged and isn’t nearly so big
|
| And it speaks only of its own perpetual near miss
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| Like the uncertain memory of a stranger’s mistaken kiss
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| As faces slide by in glowing shadows
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| Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down
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| In epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers
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| In a landscape of endless dull glitter
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| And a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter
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| We exhaust ourselves trying to get there
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| Somebody scream, all right
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| We’ll try to fill the echoless night
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| So fasten up and hold tight
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| We can’t give up without a fight
|
| And we’re going back and forth and back and forth
|
| And back and forth and back
|
| We’re going back and forth and back and forth
|
| And back and forth and back
|
| So in the end, whatever, we die, we dissolve
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| Equations unbalanced, riddles unsolved
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| And we were never connected or involved
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| Except for the intersections and crazy mathematics
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| With no time and no space and no schedule and no place
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| And they pass right through us without a trace
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| And sometimes that music drifts through my car
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| On a spring night when anything is possible
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| And I close my eyes and I nod my head
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| And I wonder how you been and I count to a hundred and ten
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| Because you’ll always be my hero, even if I never see you again |