8 blocks away would put you at the watertowers from my place,
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What's the difference when you calculate,
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by crunching numbers with crunched up eyelids?
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Twenty-six hundred miles is 45 hours.
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I tried to count the space in a million yellow dashed lines, and my gas tank's just empty.
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I don't have the balls, or the where-with-all, or the cash to fill it again,
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So I guess it's best I stick around the house.
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Measure my days and metered my years in fear and muscle tension,
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Meals and the beds that I slept in!
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Tried to give a few decent gifts and scribbled a few things off the list,
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but it still goes something like this.
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Clean your desk,
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Write your ex,
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Do the dishes and your taxes,
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Throw the shit you don't need away,
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Call the airline 'bout the fast food scam,
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Write to Adam,
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Tape for Craig,
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Throw the beer bottles and the cans away,
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Mix some dirt,
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Underline WORK!
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There's never enough time, never enough time.
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We don't have all the hands we need -
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not enough you's or me's to be all the places that we want to.
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There's never enough time, never enough time.
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I'll siphon these anxieties onto to-do lists
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and fidgets and things and things and things...
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-----------------
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The List
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Defiance, Ohio |