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Your hands strike a boulevard
Between this place and a place by the sea
I dream slowly
And I drive fast
With a gun in my lap
And your voice stuck in my head

All you asked for was something interesting
Like a kiss at the door
Clothes on the floor

But now I’m tired
So
Let’s not make love here
Let’s not talk it out
Let’s just not speak at all

We’re both full of what this room is full of
But
I’ll do my best to look alive
As you sing into my mouth
No, I’m not tired of these songs

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