straighten up, pull back your hair, and I’ll drive us home without a care. will we make it to the floor? no more cigarette burns, no more morning aches, I’ll be there if you need me, I’ll be there if you care. here we sit, cross-legged on the ground, sing that old folk song as we pay no attention, to the kids passing by. and I know that you hear it, and I know that you care, and I wish you didn’t mean it, I wish you’d still be there. and I wish that I could be home, where this song began on a page in the easy days, no more secrets, no more severed ties, no more scattered visions of what the future lies.
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