At 2:15, the moon glistening On the rocks as we
Stretching in her seatbeltShe turned and said to me,“If I
Ink, my tearsYou're black with fearsThe ocean is risingIt's filling
The look in your eyes is so familiarBut what does
Narrator: It’s cold out where the wind’s blowingCross criss-crossed yellow
Shapes shimmer in your coloursSquare, circle, red, yellow, blueMelding into
Standing there in the pouring rain My sun sets to
She bends beneath dim bulbsTen thousand seams she sewedWhile outside
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