Transcript

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No one notices the contrast of white on white, or how much time there
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is between morning and night, and in between the moon and us. The
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ghosts in our halls make a fuss about our tireless ability to keep losing sight.
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Well, I walk across the grass in the rain, try to make
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friends with the pain. Why. I don't know. Lisa has a secret.
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I'm gonna let her keep it. What I don't know. Round here,
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it may as well be nineteen ninety five. Round here, I'm just
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trying to survive.