A tiny flame inside my hand
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A compromise I never planned
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Unravel out the finer strands
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And I'm looking at a blank page now
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Should I fill it up with words somehow?
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I whispered something in her ear
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I bare my soul but she don't hear
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The scratching of a mellotron it always seemed to make her cry
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Well maybe she remembers us collecting space up in the sky
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Nothing rises from my feet of clay, but it's OK
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Red mist spreads across my fingertips, ardour slips
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I lay her gently on my clothes
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She will leave me yes I know
|
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And I'm looking at a blank page now
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Should I fill it up with words somehow?
|
|
The scratching of a mellotron it always seemed to make her cry
|
Well maybe she remembers us collecting space up in the sky
|
|
Nothing rises from my feet of clay, but it's OK
|
Red mist spreads across my fingertips, ardour slips
|
|
Don't look at me with your mother's eyes or your killer smile
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Sing a lullaby
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Don't look back into black
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Don't let the memory of sound drag you down
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To end as friends so painful
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Don't look down
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Shut it down
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-----------------
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Mellotron Scratch
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Porcupine Tree |