| I’m crawling deeper in this hole where it’s too cramped to move like you do
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| And where the echoes blend my words into a language of their own
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| And I think the corners I am turning dull my lantern to the outside
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| And the less that you remember me, the more this path is overgrown
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| And the way back is just a lucky break that
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| Connects me to the dressing up of melody, the bite of infidelity
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| And I’d long to swallow one more old song
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| Pretending that I have a chance to make you care about this failing solitaire
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| Where I’m in here and you’re out there
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| 'Cause I’m crawling deeper in, into my own skin
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| Where there’s no one to chase away
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| Or to guess the next thing that I say
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| I’m invisible to you, to your bird’s eye view
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| I know the angle all too well
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| It’s how I saw before I fell
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| And now it’s not so hard to tell
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| I’m crawling deeper in myself
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| And these corridors are veined with every word we’ve ever spoken
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| And the story that they tell is just a wheel within a wheel
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| But every time I think I’m crossing into where you cannot find me
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| You are always right behind me, half inside me, half unreal
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| I forget all the skies and crocus petals
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| A time without retreating like a refugee from such imagined treachery
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| Now silent, I’m searching out this island
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| Pretending that I have a chance to make it where the morning’s not recycled air
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| And you’re more than a prayer
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| Because I’m crawling deeper in, into my own skin
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| Where there’s no one to chase away
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| Or to guess the next thing that I say
|
| I’m invisible to you, to your bird’s eye view
|
| I know the angle all too well
|
| It’s how I saw before I fell
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| But now it’s not so hard to tell
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| I’m crawling deeper in myself |