Blacktop letters written out of chalk,
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that she might see me when school is over,
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Dripping thoughts fall onto your sidewalk,
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I could only tell you when I'm not sober
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It's not your fault
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Cryptic message written in the dark,
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All that haunts me is surely closure
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Locking hands floating through the park,
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They always watch me losing composure
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It's not your fault
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-----------------
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Mind, Drips
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Neon Indian |