You've got to run to me
You've got to hide from
You take him places I can't go
You tell him things
swing low in dark glass hour
you turn to cover
see it
I see your voice
You're scared of a ghost
Take what you
A matter of empty gestures
A question of circumstance
But only fools
See me shed in my mind as I leave to
Each night I taste the silenceof the words in my
Into a roomold curtains broken chairsI walk in throughdust on
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