its a death cab for cutie sunday
well already after midnight, its monday
think about all the plans,
we never got though going
i wish we could move back through time
clean strokes of backstroke, lane line
feeling hope and yet defeat
my emotions not showing
the hole you thought filled is now opened,
hearing the words which you were hopein,
all is not lost, yet still is not found
you miss me but you are not around
...
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