Falling North, of the Arctic Circle inside of you,
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The bleakness, the cold eye of ice in you.
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Tundra-heart, you banish all memories, all feeling,
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You¡¯re a distant cold-shoulder, I¡¯m reeling.
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Oh, we¡¯re as dead as doors, we¡¯re as dead as ashes,
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Walking through your Manitoba, walking through your Manitoba.
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(oh, oh, oh, oh)
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Therapy, that big trigger-word that changes you,
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And touches the bulls-eye of rage in you.
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What¡¯s your fear?
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Remembering the abandoned little child,
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Retreating in books while your father¡¯s wild,
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Oh, we¡¯re as dead as doors, we¡¯re as dead as ashes,
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Walking through your Manitoba, walking through your Manitoba
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Oh, we¡¯re as dead as doors, we¡¯re as dead as ashes,
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Walking through your Manitoba, walking through your Manitoba.
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(oh, oh, oh, oh)
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Right by your side, naked and wide,
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I feel my insides, start to come up inside my mouth.
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It¡¯s what I give, into this sieve,
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It¡¯s worse than lonely,
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It¡¯s hot tar on my innocence.
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We¡¯re as dead as doors, we¡¯re as dead as ashes,
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Walking through your Manitoba, walking through your Manitoba,
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We¡¯re as dead as doors, we¡¯re as dead as ashes,
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Walking through your Manitoba, walking through your Manitoba,
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We¡¯re as dead as doors, we¡¯re as dead as ashes,
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Walking through your Manitoba, walking through your Manitoba.
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It¡¯s what I give, into this sieve, it¡¯s worse than lonely,
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It¡¯s hot tar on my innocence,
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Right by your side, naked and wide,
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It¡¯s worse than lonely, it¡¯s hot tar on my innocence.
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Manitoba
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Paula Cole |