Your grand dad left home for the circus. He was young just like me,
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with hope to explore. He married a girl in Virginia.
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She could swing the trapeze; they could sleep on the floor.
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Your mother was born in December, on the one sunny day that winter gave up.
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She had warm summer eyes that flickered like fireflies,
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when she stared at the world.
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So why do you leave these stories unfinished,
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my Cheshire cat doorstop with tears in her eyes?
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Why do you look when you've already found it?
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What did you find that could leave you walking by?
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She was raised in a New England village.
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Then she moved to LA with her firefly stare,
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and you loved sunset strip when it sparkled,
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you grew up and you sparkled but why don't you care?
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So why do you leave these stories unfinished,
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my Cheshire cat doorstop with tears in her eyes?
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Why do you look when you've already found me?
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What did you find that could leave you walking by?
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These nights I get high just from breathing.
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When I lie here with you I'm sure that I'm real,
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like that firework over the freeway.
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I could stay here all day but that's not how you feel.
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So why do you leave these questions unanswered?
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The circus awaits and you're already gone.
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My Cheshire cat doorstop with fear in your smile,
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what makes it so easy for you to be walking by?
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And what did I do that you can't seem to want me?
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Why do we lie here and whisper goodbyes?
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Where can I go that your pictures won't haunt me?
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What makes it so easy for you to be walking by?
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-----------------
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Walking By
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Something Corporate |