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They say sleeping under stars is romantic,
but when the roof is a thousand miles away,
there’s a new definition to “the bright side”,
and stars are just old photographs that fade.
I find that I find all the lost ones
before I find myself.
Bumping into the startle of strangers on the street,
and strangers seem to treat you well.
I’m getting good at getting lost.
I’m betting dimes on better bucks.
Old friends tell me that I’ve found my way.
I’m not cut out for getting caught.
I’m getting good at getting lost these days.
No time for daydreams in the moonlight.
I’m bewildered by the books that began
when I stumbled into Sunday in Saturday’s clothes
onto pages in the hands of the wrong kind of man.
but when the roof is a thousand miles away,
there’s a new definition to “the bright side”,
and stars are just old photographs that fade.
before I find myself.
Bumping into the startle of strangers on the street,
and strangers seem to treat you well.
I’m betting dimes on better bucks.
Old friends tell me that I’ve found my way.
I’m not cut out for getting caught.
I’m getting good at getting lost these days.
I’m bewildered by the books that began
when I stumbled into Sunday in Saturday’s clothes
onto pages in the hands of the wrong kind of man.
Song Info
Submitted by
zebraplop On Aug 15, 2021
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