| Earthbound to Johnny boy just picked up your message
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| 'Bout those Balinese ikats you thought I might buy
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| Now your voice on my machine is more alive than what you are
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| Since your daredevil hang glider fell out of the sky
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| Now Armand’s looked all over but he can’t find your car keys
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| Were they under the tire? |
| Were they under the seat?
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| Because as it stands now your beloved white Aires
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| Is fair game for the vandals up on Makapuu Street
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| And your grandmother’s number, we know it’s here somewhere
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| But Suze can’t seem to find it, now she’s losing control
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| And so what about her, and little Eldon and Layla
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| And that hypothetical spectre, your gilt-edged soul
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| Which defied many perils, in the face of all reason
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| And in so many settings and for all your young years
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| Insisting on pure freedom for its too-short season
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| Riding high on its ration of enchantment and fear
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| Over the hill and into the next meadow and on and on and on
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| In a near random universe there are still certain combinations
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| Picked out from all other possible ones
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| Which, when given some time and the just-right circumstances
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| Not too far from the earth or too close to the sun
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| They will dance and they’ll spin in the embrace of the trade winds
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| Playing havoc with the hearts and the upturned faces down below
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| Until the laws of curved spacetime, susponed without warning
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| Kick back in with a vengeance for the last act of the show
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| Going too far too fast in that final wing over
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| As your glider comes tumbling out of the clouds
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| And you clutch at your chest but the chute never opens
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| And they find you there tangled in that white nylon shroud
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| When we get Grandma’s number I think I’ll just say to her
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| Your Johnny’s home for Christmas, it was a hell of a ride
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| And I know that some day you’ll be showing me those blankets
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| All covered in glory on the hereafter side, saying
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| There was never any question, it was always all or nothing
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| Surf and/or die |