In the stick-count for the song
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of knowing you're gone
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glancing up at where you lived
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when you lived here
|
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I see you suddenly alive
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and nearly smiling
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stop and hold my breath
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and watch the way you used to be
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the full moon makes
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our faces shine
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like over-ironed polyester
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then disappears
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behind the clouds
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leaves me under empty rows
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of night windows
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we could walk to where these streets
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get pulled together
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a blinking line with gravel
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shoulders squared towards an end
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where the radio resounds
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from doppling traffic
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where the power lines steal
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S's from the hourly news
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depluralize
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our casualities
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drown the generals out in static
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we'd turn and watch
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our city sprawl
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send us signals in the glow
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of night windows
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night windows
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night windows
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but you're not
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coming home again
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-Night windows-
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and i won't
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ever get to say
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-Night windows-
|
|
remember how, i'm sorry that
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i miss the way, could we...
|
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remember how, i'm sorry that
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i miss the way, could we...
|
|
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night windows
|
night windows
|
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-----------------
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Night Windows
|
The Weakerthans |