I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water,
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And pictures of you and i'm not coming out
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Until this is all over
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And i'm looking through the glass where the light bends
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At the cracks
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And i'm screaming at the top of my lungs pretending
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The echoes belong to someone
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Someone i used to know
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And we become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
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Ba ba ba...
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I wanted to walk through the empty streets
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And feel something constant under my feet,
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But all the news reports recommended that
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I stay indoors
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Because the air outside will make our cells
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Divide at an alarming rate until our shells
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Simply cannot hold all our insides in,
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And that's when we'll explode
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(and it won't be a pretty sight)
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And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
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Ba ba ba...
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And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
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Ba ba ba...
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And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
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Ba ba ba...
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And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go
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Ba ba ba...
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And we'll become
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And we'll become
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-----------------
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We Will Become Silhouettes
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The Postal Service |